


Too Broken To Try?

by Shy_Squirell



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mentions of loss, POV First Person, Possible Daryl x reader, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Daryl, Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 141,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shy_Squirell/pseuds/Shy_Squirell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world has turned it's back on her and she's more than happy to go it alone until the day hunger drives her into his crosshairs. Surrounded by people and conflict she tries her hardest to keep everyone at knives length in a desperate attempt to save what's left of her tortured heart but it would seem Daryl has other ideas. Set At the prison after Woodbury and following the show's story line from there.<br/>Slow burn Daryl x O/C (possible reader).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

If anyone would have told me a few years ago that this would be my life now, I wouldn’t have believed them. The dead reanimated was an impossibility, a joke; a sick joke that has become the terrifying truth.

Civilisation as we knew it fell and humanity descended into primitive survival mode. Everything I knew is gone. Cities. People. Technology. No more creature comforts, instead it’s survival of the fittest, and the dead apparently.

I don’t know how long I’ve been wandering , I’ve lost track of dates, instead I follow the seasons. I think we’re approaching the end of winter with the way the air is subtly warming. 

Shaking my head, I come back to my senses, returning from the memories of what life used to be like. There’s no point dwelling on what was, I need to stay present and keep my wits about me to avoid the dangers.

A soft breeze stirs the tree canopy above me and the rustle of leaves soothes my tired mind. I glance towards the sky, noting how the stars are fading as daylight chases the night away.

Treading carefully, I navigate the forest floor as quietly as I can. I had very little knowledge of survival techniques before this all started but with time I’ve learned. Some things I found out the hard way, some through trial and error and others I was lucky enough to be taught. But like the seasons, people come and then they inevitably go, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

A wave of nausea rolls through me, reminding me that I haven’t eaten in days. To settle my stomach I take a long drink from my canteen but even that’s running low. I’m dangerously low on everything.

Crouching, I listen intently, trying to catch any sign of life in the woodland surrounding me but there’s nothing there. In all honestly, I didn’t really expect to hear anything, there are no other signs of life after all. There hasn’t been for a while now and yet I still keep hoping. Sadly, I can’t survive on hope, alone.

Lack of food is becoming a big problem, I can’t remember the last time I ate enough to satisfy the gnawing in my stomach and I’m struggling to remain focussed. My mind keeps playing tricks on me but I have to push on. I need to find food and I need to find a safe place to sleep tonight. 

Chewing on my bottom lip I think back to the car I had been sleeping in. It had been a shitty old thing but I’d been dry and relatively safe in there. That was until some bastard stole it whilst I was out looking for food. 

Running my hand down my face I try to ignore the anger clawing through my mind. It was just a car, I remind myself for the umpteenth time, even though I’m lying. It was so much more than just a car, it was respite from the madness. My own slice of safety in a world tipped upside down and some one took it from me.

I’m about to give into the molten emotions scorching my blood when a rustle up ahead snatches my attention. 

Eyes wide, I hold my breath, ignoring the wild thumping of my heart. Another noise, one I can’t place confirms that there’s something out there.

Excitement rushes through me and I carefully move towards the sound. I want to run and my body protests at the subdued pace, my muscles itching to take flight but I can’t risk it. Yes, it could be a herd of the undead but it could also be the first proper meal I’ve had in weeks.

It doesn’t take long to reach a break in the trees and the source of the noise. A fissure of nerves heightens my senses as I spot a man with his back to me. He’s loading what looks like a crossbow, his focus entirely on a doe in the clearing.

A doe! Actual food. Subconsciously my fingers flex to my throwing knife on my belt. I could take the animal out if I just got a little closer. 

Inching forward I’m about to break cover when I regain my senses. What am I doing? It makes far more sense to wait it out. Let the stranger do the hard work and then take what I need and be gone. If I’m clever I could do it all without him realising.

Scanning the area I look for a suitable place to lay a trap. I need something to make enough noise to draw him away for a few minutes. That will give me plenty of time to scavenge a meal or three from his kill.

In my peripheral vision, I’m aware of his slight change of stance and I can’t stop my eyes being drawn to his frame. He holds the crossbow confidently, his feat planted and shoulders square. Obviously he knows what he’s doing. Staying low I wait for him to unleash the bolt, but he seems to hesitate and I can’t figure out why. What’s wrong? The doe seems unaware of him and there’s no other source of threat except—

He lets his bolt fly, taking down his target soundlessly before snatching a handgun from his side and pointing it in my direction.

“C’mon out. I know ya there,” he calls roughly.

Through the cover of the bush in front of me, I eye him, weighing up my options. He has a gun but he’s alone. If I had to, I’m pretty sure I could take him down.

“C’mon, ain’t got all day!” He yells, growing agitated.

The draw of the kill is too tempting. Even just the leg off the beast would see me right for a week. It’s a no brainer.

Holding my hands up in surrender, I stand slowly and ease my way around the bush.

“You ‘lone?” 

Keeping my eyes fixed to his, I nod. He reminds me of a wild animal and I don’t want to make him overly skittish.

He sweeps his gaze over me, paying special attention to the knife handles above my shoulders that lead to the long blades strapped to my back. “Throw down your weapons an’ step away from ‘em.”

With my hands still raised in what I hope is enough of a show of submission, I shake my head, “Can’t. I need them.”

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Won’t need ‘em if your dead,” he threatens, narrowing his eyes.

He thinks he’s got the upper hand, maybe he has and I’m too starved to realise it but I refuse to be parted from my knives. Survival techniques I had to learn after the world turned, but knife fighting was a hobby of mine long before. The black oxide coated blades were a gift from my long since dead husband and had kept me alive thus far. I was not prepared to simply give them away. 

Assessing the situation it was easy to see how I’d take him down if I need to. I had cover in the brush surrounding me and I had my throwing knives. It wouldn’t take a lot to throw and duck. He’d be dead before he knew I’d moved.   
“I don’t wanna kill you,” he sighs wearily and I actually think he means it.

“I was just looking for food. I don’t want any trouble.” I counter, and it’s true. If I have to take him down I will but in all honesty I’d rather just steal some of his doe and leave. Murder is not something I take lightly, even now.

His eyes bore into mine and he chews on his bottom lip. He’s thinking about something and experience tells me this is a bad sign. Readying myself for a fight, I take a slow breath. 

“Al’righ’,” he surprises me by lowering his gun. “How many walkers you killed?”

My eyebrows furrow and my head tilts. I don’t understand his game; this isn’t how it usually plays out. Strangers are not quick to help one another since the world went to shit and his sudden change of direction leaves me dizzy. Literally.

Exhaling, I sink to my knees as my legs give out. Reaching forward, my hands connect with the earth and save me from falling flat on my face. Momentarily I’m blinded as my sight fades to black and panic engulfs me. 

Now is not the time to show weakness but no matter what I try, my body won’t cooperate. 

“Stay back!” I warn the stranger, unable to disguise the fear in my slurred words.

“Too late,” he replies, his voice too close for comfort. 

As my consciousness dances in and out, I’m vaguely aware of the man taking my knives. Powerless to stop him, I drop onto the grass and surrender to the situation. There’s not much else I can do, I’m too weak, too broken to fight back. Swallowing down my fear I resign myself to fate. I’m about to pass out, stripped of weapons and strength there’s nothing left for me to do but wait for death. If I’m lucky I won’t wake up again and this will be it.

God, I hope I’m lucky.

 

* * *

I’m luckier than I thought. When I wake I’m in a large concrete room with a dusty floor. I look up to see a barred window, the midday sun streaming through creating a stark stripes on the floor next to me. In the near distance I hear people talking, their voices light and trouble free.

Glancing to my right, I meet the cautious glare of the stranger I ran into in the forest, only he’s not alone. Three other people, all of them now turning their wary gazes towards me, flank him. 

Instinctively I reach up but it’s a futile gesture. My knives are gone, I remember him taking them from me.

“Take it easy, you’re safe here.” An older guy with his long white hair tied back steps forward and smiles.

I grit my teeth and force myself to stand. It hurts like a bitch, my body aching in places I didn’t know could ache, but I have to ignore the pain, I can’t afford to show weakness in front of these people if I intend to survive. Backing away slowly, I move until I feel the cold concrete wall behind me. 

“How many walkers you killed?” The man from this morning snaps impatiently.

My mind whirls. Should I answer? Is it a trap? What do these people want with me? 

The last thought causes a shudder to run the length of my spine at the many unthinkable possibilities.

“I’m Hershel, that over there is Glenn and you’ve already met Daryl.” The older man takes another tentative step towards me, holding his hands out in front of himself. “We ain’t gonna hurt you, we just need to ask some questions and then we can fix you up.”  
“My knives.” The words slip past my lips before I can stop them.

“They’re safe. You can have them back as soon as we know you’re not a threat. Now,” he smiles and gestures to the bed, “why don’t you answer Daryl’s question. How many walkers have you killed?”

I’m trapped. Glancing around I can see that I’m in a prison and every exit is locked. I have no exit strategy other than play by their rules and hope to god they don’t kill me, or worse. Sighing heavily, I slide down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest and rest my head against the concrete behind me.

“I don’t know. I haven’t counted.” I shrug. “Lot’s. Too many and yet, not enough.”

“An’ how many people you killed?” Again the same rough tone calls over to me. I glance at the hunter, at Daryl, before lowering my gaze to the floor.

“Seven.” I’m ashamed and disgusted that I can now add murderer to my résumé. 

“Why?”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek I wonder if I should tell them the truth. Would they understand? Would it intimidate them enough to get me out of here or would it just add to their reasons to kill me?

“Why?” Daryl presses.

Narrowing my eyes, I stare him down, trying to get a read on him. He could have left me in the woods, taken my meagre belongings and forgotten all about me, but he didn’t. He brought me back to his camp even though he owes me nothing. 

Where as I, I now owe him everything. 

“Revenge.” I admit.

“For what?”

“My family.”

I’m not willing to explain any further. I don’t know these people; I’m sure as hell not about to spill my life story.

“What happened?” Hershel probes.

“Bad things.”

He’s about to press for more when the door opposite me opens and a woman walks in carrying a bowl in her hands. Without a word, she crosses the space and places the plastic container next to me. I don’t know what it is but it smells amazing.

“You should eat,” she instructs.

“This is Carol.” Hershel gestures to the woman, “and she’s right, you’re malnourished, please, eat your food.”

They don’t wait for me to move, instead they retreat to the door and huddle around one another speaking so low I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Sliding my gaze back to the bowl I try and ignore the pain in my stomach. I don’t care if I am dying, I refuse to eat it; I won’t owe these people anymore than I do already. I’ve been down that path before and it lead to nothing but trouble and heartache. 

“It ain’t poisoned.” 

My heart leaps into my throat as Daryl spits out his words. He’s hovering next to me, his furious glare pinning me to the spot. I hadn’t heard him approach and his proximity unnerves me.

“I’m not hungry.” I lie, the shot of adrenalin caused by his sudden appearance bolstering my weary body enough to allow me to at least square my shoulders and raise my chin.

“Bullshit, your starvin’, look at the way your bones stick out. You look like shit woman so eat the damn meat.”

As the others filter out and clang the door shut, I realise I’m not getting out anytime soon. Anger boils my blood and I’m tempted to throw the bowl at my unwanted companion, but what would be the point? Sure, it would make me feel better for all of thirty seconds but then I’d have to deal with the fall out.

Daryl sighs and scratches the back of his neck. I think he’s trying to make some sort of decision as he dances from one foot to the other. Eventually he stops fidgeting and sits down a few feet to my right, mirroring me with his back against the wall.

“We don’t wanna hurt you, we’re tryin’a help you.”

“And here in lies my problem.” I whisper not meaning for him to hear but he does.

“What happened to your people?”

I curl in to myself, hiding my face as I rest my forehead on my knees. “Bad things by worse people.” 

“You always talk in riddles?”

“No,” I snarl, “only when I’m held captive in a prison.”

He makes a noise half way between a laugh and a curse as he pushes to his feet. “You really think we wanna hurt you after all we done t’ help? Shoulda left your sorry ass where I found you.”

“Well why didn’t you?” I snap, struggling to stand but refusing to allow him to look down on me in any way.

“Cos it ain’t what we do here.” His tone is soft as he looks away.

The corners of my vision waver and I can feel my blood rushing to my feet. I’m going to pass out again unless I sit back down. Stubbornly I grit my teeth and fight to remain upright. I’m fighting a losing battle. 

Without warning, Daryl grabs the top of my arms and drags me back to the bed, dumping me down unceremoniously without a word. A second later he thrusts the bowl into my hands with the gruff command to eat.

The bowl is warm and the smell, divine. Everything inside me screams to devour the meal from my growling stomach to my trembling hands and yet I still can’t bring myself to.

“You can eat it on your own or I can force it into you.” Daryl growls, taking up his new position on the floor by the door opposite me.

It’s the final push I need. The flavour is mouth-watering and the sensation of chewing something other than plants drives me to close my eyes and savour every mouthful.

I eat slowly, unsure of how my body will react to the food and not wanting to rush the experience. Whoever created this meal is nothing short of godlike in my eyes.

Once the bowl is empty I make a show of placing it down next to me, earning a tiny smirk from the man watching me.

“How good are you with them blades?” Daryl’s question is laced with undertones and I can’t help but feel like he’s worried.

“Better than anyone else I’ve ever met.” I answer honestly.

He grunts and the conversation is over. 

Now that I’m full, I’m fighting to stay awake, my eyelids drooping as each blink lasts longer and longer. I try every trick I can think of to stay awake but soon enough, I settle onto the thin mattress and drift into slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Carol unlocks the metal door, a smile on her face and another bowl in her hands. Passing Daryl, she taps his shoulder and speaks quietly in his ear. He shakes his head at whatever she says and points a finger in my direction.

Carol turns her head to me, a flash of something crossing her face, could be sympathy, could be disappointment, I’m not sure which. She sighs deeply, finishing her conversation with Daryl and heading over.

Holding up her offering she raises her brows. “Mind if I sit with you?”

I shrug my shoulders slightly, not caring if she stays or goes. 

“I’m glad you’re eating,” she holds the fresh bowl out to me, frowning when I refuse to accept it. “If you want to get strong enough to leave you’re going to have to eat our food.”

She sounds weary and I steal a glance at her from the corner of my eye. She’s older than I first realised, but she doesn’t strike me as weak. Far from it in fact. 

“Why are you helping me?” I don’t know what makes me voice my question, maybe it’s because she’s female and seems more open than Daryl, maybe it’s because I’m sick of cycling through the same unanswered questions in my head.

She smiles and takes a seat next to me on the makeshift bed. “Because it’s what we do. We’ve built something here, a real community. We bring people in because there’s safety in numbers and because it’s the right thing to do.”

“So safety’s a commodity here? Something to be bought and sold.” I think I’m beginning to understand their set up. It made sense I suppose, and as cynical as I am, I can see why people would be drawn to this place.

Again Carol sighs. “You eat and I’ll talk. Deal?”

I pause for a moment before accepting the food. 

“Good.” She smiles again. “We only expect our people to pull their weight. Some cook, some tend to the vegetable garden, others like Daryl go out hunting. We don’t expect people to do more than they can and we don’t push them into things they don’t want to do. We’ve all been out there, we’ve seen the worst of it and that’s why we’re doing this.”

“The worst?” I highly doubt someone this kind has seen the worst of the world; if she had she wouldn’t be so sweet, so open. 

Her face turns to me and she watches as I swallow down the food. It’s the same meal as before and yet somehow it tastes even better.

“What happened to you out there?” Her gentle tone is so reminiscent of my mother’s that I choke on my mouthful of food. Quickly, Carol hands me some water and tentatively rubs my back. I flinch at the contact but she doesn’t stop.

When I’m able to breathe normally she removes her hand but stays close, the warmth from her body soaking through my clothes and suffocating me. Confusion clouds my judgement. Suddenly I want to spill my guts to this woman, tell her everything and see if she can somehow fix me, but stubbornness keeps my tongue still.

She can tell I’m not going to answer so she changes the conversation. “Would you like to stay? We have fences to keep the walkers out, food, somewhere dry to sleep. We even have running water.”

My eyes close as I picture the scene she’s painting, a safe haven full of people who clearly aren’t trying to kill one another. I’d given up hope that anywhere like this existed.

Finishing my food I nod. Of course I would want to stay but that didn’t mean I fully believed what she was saying. Despite the fact that all the people I’d met thus far had helped me, I wasn’t about to blindly follow her into another hellish situation that had me fighting for my life.

“Do you think you’re strong enough to walk? I could show you the rest of the prison if you’d like?” Carols asks gently.

Unconsciously I lean towards the woman and smile a tight-lipped smile, pulling back as I realise what I’ve done. 

I hate myself for the way her gentle tenor picks me apart, and make a mental note to keep my guard up around her. But then she beams at me and I’m back to emulating a young child, looking up at her mother who is as infallible as the sun.

“Do you have a name?” 

I swallow down the urge to blurt it out and instead shrug to cover my torment. “Red.” I answer, offering the nickname I’d acquired when the dead started walking.

“Red?”

“Yeah. Just Red.”

Carol takes a second to process this. “Okay then Red, come on, I’ll show you what we’re doing here.”

She stands and tentatively I follow. My body is rested and feels stronger than it has in a while, but I’m not foolish enough to think I’m ‘better’. Taking it steady, I cross the room behind Carol and wait for her to open the gate. As I pass Daryl he stands and follows us. A warning glint in his eyes tells me not to try anything stupid.

Just beyond the barred metal door, in a bright corridor, I notice a table a few feet away holding my weapons. Just past the table a door leads to the outside where the late afternoon sun beats down on what I can only assume was an exercise yard. My fingers twitch as we near my knives.

“You can have these back as soon as we’re sure you’re safe.” Carol assures me. 

Stunned, I stare at her with wide eyes. I hadn’t been aware of her turning to face me.

“They were a gift from someone important.” I mumble, feeling very much like I owed her an explanation.

“You’ll get ‘em back.”

I jump, this time startled by Daryl’s close proximity. Whirling around, he’s less than two foot away and his hand is resting on a knife at his hip. He doesn’t trust me. 

Taking him in, I realise that he’s probably the smartest one of this group I’ve met so far. He hasn’t let his guard down around me and he’s kept his weapons close. From the way he stands to the narrowing of his eyes as he watches me carefully it’s clear he’s seen the way the world works now. And yet I don’t feel threatened by his presence. 

I nod slowly, acknowledging his statement and believing him. He doesn’t strike me as the kind to waste words on lies.

“Come on, it’s time you met everyone.” 

I shuffle behind Carol anxiously. I’m beginning to believe what they’ve told me is true and if that’s the case I’m going to have some serious readjusting to do. I can’t recall the last time I had to make small talk or be nice for the sake of being nice. I’m used to solitary confinement, killing and running. 

My throat dries as I’m introduced to a group of six people. A young blonde girl beams at me, next to her a brunette smiles widely. Two men chuckle at something as names are hurled at me but I can’t return their smiles. 

Inside my chest my heart races and my hands shake at my sides. I don’t belong here, I’m not cut out to be part of any social group, not anymore, I’m just too broken. 

Stepping away, my back hits a body and I freeze. I’m breathing so hard each breath rocks my body and I struggle to stop myself from running. This is all too much.

“Think it’s time she met Rick.” 

As Daryl speaks, I realise it’s him that I backed into and am now leaning against. His hands curl around the top of my arms and he turns me away from the building to the large grass area between the fences.

I can’t think clearly. Through the fog of anxiety I’m vaguely aware that I’m moving but how or where to, I’ve no idea.

“C’mon Red, just breathe, you’ll be alright.”

A cold sweat trickles down my back and I shiver violently. Next to my ear, Daryl sighs, his hot breath hitting the side of my face and pulling me from my trapped panic.

“I need … a moment.” I pant, desperately trying to swallow but my mouth is far to dry.

“Sit down.” 

Listening to his instruction, I collapse into the long grass. Curling my knees to my chest, I bury my head and try to slow down my breathing. If I’d just had my knives none of this would have happened. They took away my security and now I can’t function.

Daryl stands next to me, his weight shifting from one foot to another impatiently.

His gaze darts around the exercise yard as he watches with disinterest the people going about their business. He switches his weight to his left foot, turning his attention to the woods beyond the perimeter fence. At no time does he pay me any mind.

“You took my weapons. I – I need them to feel safe.” It’s humiliating to admit but I feel I owe him a debt so I explain myself. He grunts and then slowly lowers himself to sit a few feet from me.

“Ya any good at huntin’?” 

He’s giving me an out so I take it. “I’m alright, I’m quick and I can take them down but tracking isn’t my strong point.”

Producing a red rag, he takes out his knife and cleans the blade. “See that stable there?” He nods to a crude shack about twenty feet away. “Think ya can hit the dead centre of it?”

He holds out the knife without looking at me.

One corner of my mouth raises into wry half smile. He’s testing me. He wants to see what I’ll do when I get the knife. 

“You are not what you seem.” I comment, earning a glare.

“Can ya hit the damn mark or not?”

With a tilt of my head I take his hunting knife and weigh it up, balancing it between my index finger and thumb. It’s heavier than I’m used to but I can make it work.

Taking up the appropriate position I roll my shoulders. Daryl is quick to stand and moves fractionally closer. I can see his muscles flex as he readies himself for the slightest sign of trouble.

His actions upset me and I can’t fathom why. Irrationally, I lower the blade and allow words to pour from me in an unprecedented monologue.

“If I prove myself, if I hit the spot, then what? What will you have me do, because if you’re planning something let me be crystal clear – I won’t murder innocent people and nothing you do, no threat you make will ever change that.”

Daryl’s brow furrows beneath his long hair and he takes a moment to collect his thoughts.

“'S that what happened before? Someone try an’ use ya t’ do their dirty work?”

I avert my gaze and chew on my bottom lip. I’ve already said too much. Fixing my focus on the centre of the stable, I open my stance, inhale and throw. I don’t need to look to know I’ve hit the mark, the satisfying thunk of the blade wedging into wood confirms my aim as my eyes close and my muscles relax. There is something so primal and cathartic about the action of throwing, it soothes me beyond that of any words. As the blade left my grip, it carried with it the tension of the day and sank it deep into the wooden shack.  
I’m aware of Daryl moving but not yet ready to open my eyes. This tranquillity is like a drug and I’m riding the high for as long as I can. Moments later he rejoins me and pushes the knife handle back into my hand.

“Again.” 

Stroking my thumb over the side of the blade I can’t stop my smile from growing. I was made for this. 

Letting muscle memory take charge, I clear my mind and enjoy the stretch as I bring the blade back over my shoulder and then fling it forward. 

Daryl sniffs as the knife lands half an inch from the first throw.

“Alright. Tomorrow ya comin’ huntin’. Get ya rest tonight, ya gonna need it.”

“You’ll give me back my knives?” I don’t bother disguising the excitement in my voice.

“Mmhmm”

“All of them?”

“Hmm.”

Joy overwhelms me. 

As Daryl retrieves his knife and sheathes it, I looked around, considering this place anew. Perhaps I had fallen lucky and they were genuine in what they said.

“Ya free to look around.” 

Once again, Daryl startles me. I hadn’t heard him coming. Peering over my shoulder, I stare at him in open curiosity. Is it because he’s so light-footed or am I letting my guard down around him? 

He prickles under my gaze and I can see his defences rising. “What? Ain’t ya babysitter,” he spits before storming past me and leaving me to my own devices.

Once he’s out of sight, I walk back towards the prison. Moving carefully, trying to blend in and remain unnoticed, I dodge the groups of people best I can but it doesn’t work that well. Everyone I pass smiles warmly and offers a small greeting. Awkwardly I hang my head and mumble, counting down the seconds until I reach the corridor housing my weapons. I half expect them to be gone but there they sit, waiting for my welcoming touch.

Sighing in relief, I pick them up and hug them tightly to my chest before hurrying to strap them all back into place. Tightening the holster straps around my arms and waist I button my jacket over the top and slide my long blades through the holes in my jacket into their sheathes. 

Finally I can breathe easy.

With my safety blanket back in place I set out to explore the strange community. I’m trying hard to keep a clear mind but there’s a definite bubble of hope swelling in my chest. If this place is everything they’ve said it is … No, I can’t allow myself to slip into that fairytale just yet. The last time I surrendered to hope, I lost everyone precious to me, although I’ve nothing left to lose, I refuse to believe there can be a happy ever after waiting for me.


	3. Chapter 3

My legs dangle over the side of the building and I watch in awe as the sun starts it’s descent towards the horizon. It’s a breathtaking view from the roof and it would be perfect if it wasn’t for the annoying groans of the dead by the outer fence.

To my left a watchtower blocks the tree line and I’m aware that there’s someone inside. It’s somewhat reassuring knowing that these people take their safety seriously. I’d thought that they were all sheltered from the atrocities beyond the fence but my walk around earlier proved that they all carried scars. They’d all survived something and it gave me a sense of understanding. I wasn’t the only one who was broken.

The group who had been taking down the dead at the fence were heading back to the building, their laughs and merriment carried on the light breeze towards me. I envied them. What it must be like to feel so secure and settled. 

The group of four reached the guard tower just as the door opened. I recognise the man who joins them instantly, his walk distinctive enough to discern from a distance. As they draw closer Daryl breaks away from the group, heading into the building I’m perched on and I have a suspicion that he’s coming to check on me. 

I don’t have to wait long before my suspicion is confirmed. The old metal access door groans as it’s heaved open. My peace is about to be shattered.

His footsteps close in and he grunts slightly as he lowers himself to sit. To my surprise though, he doesn’t speak, instead he drops his cross bow between us, takes out a bolt and begins messing with the head. Guess he isn’t one for hellos.

As the sun scorches the sky, I sigh deeply, exhaling the days tension from my muscles. It’s been a strange one that’s for sure – I woke this morning, tied to a branch in a tree to stop me falling out and tonight I’ll sleep on a mattress under a roof, safely protected by two sets of fences. Despite not believing in God, I send up a prayer of gratitude.

We sit in comfortable silence for a while until Daryl sighs and stands up.

“Ya comin’?” He enquires, turning back to the door and slinging his bow over his shoulder. 

I had to admit, part of me was tempted to stay up here to sleep but I didn’t want to push my luck. Wordlessly I follow my companion to the dark stairwell and close the door firmly behind us. In the darkness of the stairwell I’m thankful Daryl isn’t much for talking. I’m tired and have little I want to say and he seems to appreciate that. Reaching the ground floor he passes the room I’ve been kept in and disappears around a corner. Guess he isn’t one for goodbyes either.

Hesitantly, I step into the large room, a chill running the length of my spine as my survival instincts kick in. The room is too large and empty to feel safe in the dark, and the bed, in the centre of the room is completely exposed. Knowing what I have to do, I grab a corner of the mattress and tug.

“What ya doin? Ya need to eat if ya comin’ with me t’morrow. Don’t plan on carryin’ ya ass back if you pass out again.”

“I—“ I turn to Daryl and wince as I pull. “I need to move this. I can’t sleep here.”

He cocks his head slightly as his hands cross over his chest.

“Y’ain’t stayin’ here t’night. C’mon.”

I know better than to ask where he’s leading me, so I keep my mouth shut and follow him silently through the maze of corridors. 

When we finally reach our destination, I couldn’t be any more surprised. 

Rows of cells housing dozens of people come into view, the noise from the occupants a respectful din in comparison with the room beyond where a large group appear to be eating together. Daryl clunks his way up a flight of metal steps so I follow and for once I wish he would use his words. I don’t like not knowing what’s happening but he seems more than happy to keep me in the dark. Coming to a stop at the cell furthest from the steps he points inside with the hand that is gripping hold of his crossbow strap. 

“This is yers.”

I peek in. There’s a bunk bed holding my battered backpack, a sink and a crude lamp, the wire of which led around the wall and out of the door. Compared to what I’ve been used to this was the Ritz.

“Why?”

His eyes harden and he glares at me as if I’ve offended him. I hurry to clarify my question.

“I mean, why are you bringing me in, why are you trusting me? You know nothing about me, I could be a serial killer for all you know.” I was panicking. If they let me in without knowing anything about me, who else was wandering these cells. 

“Ya killed seven people, think ya can technically be called a serial killer.” Daryl retorts. “’Sides, I’ll be lockin’ ya door an keepin’ an eye on ya.”

I relaxed as understanding dawned. They weren’t naïve or stupid, they didn’t trust me fully but they somehow knew I wouldn’t hurt them. Allowing myself a small smile, I’m about to grab my bag when my attention is snatched by the sound of a baby’s cry.

“A baby?” I gasp.

Daryl squares up to me and stares daggers. 

“What of it?”

I shake my head and allow him to see my smile. “I never thought I’d see a baby again. Not in this world. All I’ve seen is death and destruction,” I meet his glare with soft eyes, “it’s nice to know not everything has gone to hell.”

As is becoming customary, he pauses a beat, looking over me to assess my words before his aggression fades.

“Put ya stuff in there an let’s go. I’m hungry.”

“Stuff? What stuff? I’ve got nothing except what you can see.”

“Ya blades,” he nods towards my shoulders, “ya can keep ya smaller ones but them big knives might worry some.”

Chewing on my lip I contemplate his suggestion. Finally I nod in agreement, sliding the blades out and laying them carefully on the top mattress. Even though it’s cold, I take off my jacket and lay it over the weapons. It didn’t seem right to leave them out in the open. Turning to leave my cell, Daryl raises his brows at me.

“What?”

He tapped the straps of the blade holster and I catch on. Quickly I shed the garment and lay it next to my jacket.

“Ain’t ya gonna be cold?”

“Yes but I don’t want to leave my knives uncovered. What if a kid got hold of them?” I shudder at the thought. Knowing there are children, and now a baby, I’m determined to be extra careful with my weapons.

“Put ya jacket back on.” Daryl instructs, quickly walking into the cell next door and reappearing with a blanket. He tosses it over the door and waits for me to exit before banging it shut. “C’mon before the food’s all gone.”

“Thought you weren’t my babysitter.” I quip as we make our way towards the common area.

“I ain’t.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” I mutter causing him to swing around and stop me dead in my tracks. His hard blue eyes connect with mine and for a moment a fissure of fear paralyses me.

“I brought ya in, I vouched for ya, don’t make me regret it.” 

The fear I felt a moment ago is replaced with understanding. So that’s why he’s latched on to me. He feels a sense of duty to his people to make sure I’m not a threat. But why vouch for me? As if he’s reading my mind, he lowers his voice and rubs the back of his neck.

“Ya’ve got issues, been alone in them woods too long but ya ain’t a threat. I’m jus’ keepin’ my eyes on ya for the time being.” 

I look down at my feet and scuff the toe of my worn boot against the grey floor. Is there anything his piercing eyes don’t see? He’s seen through me far faster than I’m comfortable with and yet I know nothing about him, except that he’s observant and clever.

“You’re right,” I whisper, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m broken beyond repair but I won’t hurt any of your people unless they try to hurt me first. As much as I hate it, I owe you, all of you, and I intend to repay that debt.”

Daryl nods, seemingly happy with what he’s heard he leads me into the large room full of people and hurries to where the food is being served.

Like a lost puppy, I trail behind him, doing my best to avoid people, but once again, they refuse to let me by. The blonde girl from earlier steps into my path and hands me a plate of meat.

“Hey, I’m Beth, Hershel’s daughter. We kinda met earlier but—“ She smiles and shrugs awkwardly.

I know I should make an effort but I’m socially inept and have no idea how to reply. It’s been too long since I had to socialise. Beth stares at me with expectancy in her wide blue eyes and I feel bad at the thought of upsetting her. Somehow it seems cruel to brush her off.

“I’m Red.” I mutter, unsure of what else to say.

Her smile widens, lighting her entire face and she takes my reply as an invitation to start a conversation. “Well that’s an interesting name, how’d that come about.”

I’m about to tell her but I catch myself just in time. She can’t be more than seventeen, she doesn’t deserve to grow up in the world she’s in, let alone hear how I earned my nickname. Shaking my head I fake a smile. “I used to have red hair, the name just stuck.” I lie.  
Satisfied with my reply, Beth parades me around the room, forcing me out of my comfort zone as I’m introduced to person after person. Eventually she drags me to a man who’s deep in conversation with Daryl. He holds the baby I’d heard crying but when she sees Beth her pudgy arms reach towards the young blonde.

“C’mere Judith,” Beth coos taking the child like she’s her mother. I narrow my eyes, is she the mother?

“This is Judith, she’s Rick’s daughter and Carl’s sister. We lost her mom when she was born.”

“You’re good with her.” I choke.

I’m staring at the child; unable to tear my gaze away from the sight that stirs a million different emotions within me. 

“Thanks, you wanna hold her?”

I notice both men freeze but I can’t pass up the opportunity. Eagerly I nod my head and seconds later, Judith sits on my hip, her chubby hands reaching for my hair. I close my eyes and find solace embracing the little miracle in my arms. It feels so right to hold her close, to let her in. It’s been too long since the peace she’s bringing me has whispered through my tortured mind. As I regain my sense of surroundings, I open my eyes and kiss the top of Judith’s head.

“She’s too beautiful for words.” I smile, offering her back to Beth who takes her without thought.

As soon as my arms are empty, the sickening chill of grief settles over me and the familiar sting in my eyes warns that it’s time to leave. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really tired. Will you excuse me?”

Beth frowns slightly but quickly recovers her mega watt smile. “Sure, see you tomorrow, Red, ‘kay?”

I return the smile, concentrating hard to hold back the dam threatening to break inside of me as I rush from the room. Hurrying to my cell, I waste no time in fixing my blades in place, the weight of them calming me enough to let me think for a second.

I need air, I need to be outside, I’m not used to being locked up, except …

Memories break through the barrier I’ve so carefully erected and my breathing accelerates. I have to get outside but I don’t know my way out. Running down the stairs I head the way Daryl brought me but I can’t remember the route. Tripping down the corridors I stumble blindly until I find a door to the outside. 

Breaking into the chilly twilight air helps clear my head, the cold snapping me back to the present. Thankfully the yard is empty and I’m offered the luxury of privacy to pull myself together. I haven’t held a baby since …

Running my hands down my face, I lean forward to catch my breath. These emotions, the strength of them, I haven’t experienced anything like this in years. I thought I’d gotten over what happened, or at least moved on, but the force of my reaction to Judith proves I’ve only succeeded in lying to myself all this time. As my heart settles to a steady rhythm, I’m aware of a presence behind me. I don’t need to look; it’s obvious who it is. Striding to the fence, I thread my fingers through the links and gaze longingly into the trees before my eyes settle on the walkers at the perimeter. Out there I can find the relief I need. Out there I can do some good.

A pleasant calm settles over me and the wild beast inside my mind stills. Taking a deep breath I push forward into a run, heading for the main gate. I don’t know how many walkers are out there but it doesn’t sound like there’s more than a dozen. Besides, in the fading light they’re easier to take down, their senses don’t compensate like ours. With each step closer to the main gate, the weight bearing down on me lifts. I can see the end, the way out of this constricting straight jacket choking me. Skidding to a halt, I wait for Daryl, knowing fine well he’s following me. He closes in and I smile genuinely. He’ll think I’m fucking mad but I don’t care.

“Close the gate behind me!” I yell, opening it just wide enough to slip out.

“Red!” His gruff shout fills the air.

“I’ll be fine. Just let me do this.”

My reply has the walkers stumbling in my direction and I breathe easily now I’m out in the open. Rolling my shoulders, I draw my large knives and settle into a position all too familiar. Knees slightly bent, feet apart, arms flexed and head high. 

Allowing my mind to fall empty, I count to three, exhale and start the dance. In a blur of well practised steps, black oxide blades slice and stab, littering the floor with decomposing bodies, blood and sinew. With each turn, arc and stretch, the memories which started my panic attack fade into darkness and I’m free once more of my demons. Rotting flesh and a smell so putrid I almost gag, follow me as I sweep through the remaining walkers, finally coming to a stop in a lunge with my blade impaled in a male walkers skull. Standing, I brace my foot against his chest and kick him back as I tug my knife free. The silence surrounding me is nothing short of euphoric. No more groaning. No more guilt.

Flicking the putrid blood from my weapons, I stoop to wipe the last of it on the shirt of one of the bodies before making my way back to the gate. I know there’s every chance I won’t be allowed back in now that he’s seen what I’m capable of, and yet I can’t regret my decision. My mind is calm and my muscles are relaxed. I feel human again, but not only that, I feel at peace.

“What the fuck was that?” Daryl bites. “Ya got a death wish or somethin’?” He’s outside the gate with his crossbow in his hands and a deep scowl on his face. 

Sliding my knives away I meet his angry glare. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“No ‘cos I ain’t a dumbass with a deathwish.” His large hand curls around my bicep and holds me in a vice like grip as he drags me back inside the gate. He doesn’t release me, not even to secure the gate; instead he just tugs me to his side muttering curses under his breath.

“You should have stayed inside. I told you to stay inside.” I sigh.

“I was covering ya sorry ass.”

“Thanks but my sorry ass managed just fine, and if it hadn’t, then that would have been on me.” He’s marching me back to the prison half dragging, half tripping over me. “I thought you weren’t my babysitter.”

His strides stop dead and he swings me around so we’re face to face.

“There’s somethin’ really wrong with you, woman. Ya coulda got us all killed.”

“No, I couldn’t. I told you to close the gate behind me. Waited for you before I opened it, just in case there were strays I couldn’t see. I took the necessary precautions to ensure your safety and the safety of your people. So no, there was never any danger for you.” I don’t raise my voice, there’s no need. Daryl is upset because he can’t understand my actions but I know where he’s coming from, I get it. His priority is his people. “Daryl, I already told you, I’m not a threat. I would never do anything that would leave you open or exposed. You people helped me, I’m not about to forget that, but sometimes … Sometimes I feel claustrophobic and I have to get out. That,” I point to the gate to emphasise my point, ”what just happened back there, that was me escaping. That was me breathing. I don’t expect you to get it; I just need you to understand that it wasn’t a mindless act of stupidity. I knew what I was doing and I didn’t jeopardise any of you in any way.”

I find myself once again under Daryl’s scrutiny. He digests my words, processing what I’ve told him with narrowed eyes and a permanent frown. Eventually he speaks and his fingers locked around my arm release their grip slightly.

“This gonna happen’ every time you see Judith?” He asks softly.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he picked up on what triggered my episode, but I am. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open.

“You really do see everything with your predator eyes.” I whisper, my voice hoarse. There’s no point trying to cover my tracks, he’s had me in his cross hairs from the start, he knows I’ve no where to hide. Lies are just a waste of words at this point. Dropping my face I look down at our feet. We’re toe to toe, our bodies so close there’s hardly any space between us. I try to step back but Daryl’s having none of it. He reaches out with his other hand and snatches hold of my wrist.

“Ya never answered my question.”

In my minds eye I see Judith and wonder how much of my story Daryl needs to know. When I brave a glance at him, his face is a mask of cautiousness.

“No. It won’t happen again. It’s been a long time … I’m tired and holding her opened up some wounds I didn’t know were still—“ Frustration bubbles inside me as I try to articulate my thoughts. Squeezing my eyes shut I breathe deeply and slowly until I’m able to clear my thoughts. “I wasn’t expecting that reaction. I’m sorry my coping mechanism startled you but I promise, I’ll never do anything to intentionally put your people or you, in harms way. Like I said, I owe you enough already.”

The cool breeze circle us, playing with the loose tendrils of my ponytail and fluttering Daryl’s hair in front of his face. 

“Why'd ya need to put them walkers down?”

Unconsciously I look over to the bodies as I answer. “Guilt.”

This throws Daryl. “What in the hell have ya got to feel guilty for?”

Tears sting my eyes and I fight like hell to swallow them down. I’ve only known this man a day and here I am about to tell him my worst secret.

“You might as well sit down, it’s not exactly a short story.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for abuse and loss.

This day had not gone to plan. Except for filling my belly, I couldn’t be any further from where I set out to be.

Daryl picks at the grass, waiting as patiently as he can while I pace restlessly, mentally psyching myself up for what I am about to do. 

“I don’t know you.” I mutter, “but I do owe you.” Stopping in front of Daryl I try and get a read from him. 

Resting his arms on bent knees, he holds some grass between his hands and stares at it intently. He’s giving nothing away. 

Bile burns my throat at the thought of opening up to him. It’s going to happen, of that I’m certain, but exactly why, and if he deserves to know everything, I’m unsure. “You swear that everything you’ve told me is the truth?”

My question offends him. He drops the grass and takes out a cigarette. “Ain’t no liar,” he huffs, lighting up.

“You need to understand, this is hard for me.“ 

I resume my pacing. It’s easier to think when I’m moving. Battling the lucid memories, I clasp my hands together and rub one thumb over the back of the other, a trick I’d learned to keep me present. Concentrating hard on the feel of flesh on flesh I swallow.

Like ripping off a band aid, I think as my heart accelerates, quick and fast, just get it over with.

“I was with my family when it started. My husband, my mother and,” I inhale sharply, “my daughter.” I exhale, ignoring the tremble in my hands. “We did okay. The dead were easy to deal with but the living, they proved to be our downfall.”

I spoke in rapid bursts, ripping my soul apart before I could reconsider or run. “We were found by a group and they … They’d seen what I could do and they wanted to utilise my skill. This group were scum, there aren’t words to describe how low and disgusting they were, they didn’t deserve to be alive. They found joy in killing and torturing innocent people. Raiding camps they did unspeakable things to their poor victims.” Although I was looking at Daryl, my minds eye saw my past. 

“My daughter, she was just a toddler, just learning to speak when they found us.” Tears sting my eyes and a lump forms in my throat. The pain of reliving my past tearing me into tiny pieces that would never fit back together, no matter how hard I tried to glue them in place. “They killed my mother first, when I refused to murder for them, and then shortly after that my husband. I almost caved after the way they tortured Nick but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t do it.”

Daryl’s stopped smoking and I notice the red tip of his cigarette is dangerously close to burning his fingers. Realising I’m staring, he checks his hand and stubs out the butt. A slight tilt of his head encourages me to continue with my story. Reluctantly, I acquiesce. 

“Killing walkers doesn’t bother me, they’re already dead, but people, the living… Not long after Nick, we came across a small town and they decimated it. I’d seen them do some absolutely horrific things so by this point I was terrified of what they would do to my daughter. The people they ordered me to kill that day, they were helpless, just a father with his two young boys huddled in the back of a shop. The fear in their eyes when they saw me heading towards them. The man, he begged for his boys, told me to do what I wanted to him but spare his—“ My voice cracks and I’m not sure if I can continue. Anguish, fresh and raw seeps from my every pore. To calm myself, I pull a blade from my belt and spin it in my hand. 

“I couldn’t do what I was supposed to.“ Embarrassed, I turn my back to Daryl as the tears finally roll down my cheeks. “I told the dad to run and hide his boys but they didn’t run fast enough.” My heart constricts and breathing becomes difficult. Pushing away the vivid images I fixate on a point next to my foot, kicking at it over and over until my boot gets wedged in the soil. “The men found out, tied, gagged and beat me but that was nothing compared to—”

I shake my head, closing my fist around the cold steel throwing knife but opening it before it can bite through the skin. The cool metal numbs me enough to allow me to continue.

“Those bastards slaughtered my baby girl in front of me. My baby. And as if that wasn’t punishment enough they let her turn and then dragged her around with us as a constant reminder of my failings. The sounds she made, the noises. I could close my eyes I could look away but I couldn’t stop hearing her.”

Dropping my face and clamping my hands to my head I try and block out the hissing moans echoing in my mind. “I failed them all, my mom, Nick and T. They died, she died because I was weak.” 

A presence closes in behind me and I expect him to say something but he stays silent. Images dance behind my closed eyes, colours so vivid and bright it hurts. Unable to stomach the pain, I look ahead and peer through the thickening darkness to the void beyond where I can focus. As the black of night swallows the distance I let go of my head, nicking my cheek slightly with the blade in my hand. A single bead of blood swells on the apple of my cheek before mingling with the tears and washing away.

“Judith, she took me by surprise.” I admit. “What happened with the walkers is just my way of coping.”

I don’t know what Daryl is thinking and honestly I don’t care, I’m too absorbed in the echoes of the past to pay him any mind.

Time passes and my body begins to ache but I’m not ready to move, not just yet.

Listening to the sound of the gentle wind through the trees, I could almost imagine I was far away and everything I’d just described was a nightmare that had happened to someone else. Sometimes it actually felt that way. But I’m not, I’m here, alone in the world, fighting to survive.

The tears have long since dried on my face and my well of emotions is depleted. I’m spent and exhausted, and I allow my body to sag. My shoulders drop and my knees wobble dangerously as I slip my knife away. I need to rest.

“It’s gettin’ cold. Come inside.” Daryl’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“Here’s good.” I mumble, surrendering to the fatigue overwhelming me. As I start to drop to the floor, Daryl steps in. With a slight grunt, he slides his hand behind my knees, knocking me off balance as he picks me up.

“Daryl—“

“You need ta rest. Don’t argue.” And with that he heads to the prison door. 

I should protest, tell him to put me down, that he has no right but I can’t get my words out.

He passes silently through the corridors of the prison, his steady breathing the only noise as I rest my weary head against his shoulder. I can hear sleep calling and despite my best efforts I yield to the siren song of blissful relief.

 

* * *

 

The sun is still hidden when I jolt awake, woken from sleep by the nightmare I’ve grown accustomed to. Wiping the sweat from my brow I swing my legs out of the bottom bunk and run my hands through my dirty, knotted hair.

In the corner, my knives lean against the wall, still in their holster. Someone must have ridded me of it before laying me down.

By the door, an inconspicuous pile of clothes is next to my bag with a folded note on top. Reaching forward I snag the paper and read.

_Red,_

_Thought you might appreciate these,_

_Maggie._

Maggie? Wracking my brain I struggle to place the name to a face, I’d met so many new people I wasn’t sure who was who. 

Sitting back, I yawn and stretch. I haven’t slept this well in years. Usually it’s a case of catching a few hours here and there between hunting and dodging people.

The curtain over the barred door twitches and I see the woman with the short dark hair peek into my cell. Maggie! Her name was Maggie. She’s the one who left the clothes.

“Oh, hey, you’re awake.” She smiles warmly.

“Yeah, ah, thanks, for those.” I nod awkwardly to the garments.

“No problem, it didn’t look like you had many spares.” She stops and looks at me with uncertainty. 

She’s trying so hard to be nice and it automatically sets me on edge. I have to remind myself that these are good people who don’t want anything from me. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not really used to being around people” I mumble.

“That’s okay. I’m sure you’ll get used to us soon enough.”

God I hope she’s right, if not for my sake for theirs.

“If you want, I can show you to the bathroom, the showers are always empty at this time of day.” She’s expertly fumbling with the laundry in her arms as she nonchalantly makes her offer.

I never thought I’d have the luxury of a shower again. I nod slowly, caught up in the daydream of clean running water.

Her smile widens and she bumps the door open with her hip.

I’m momentarily taken aback as the door swings open without any protest. Daryl had said he would lock the door, why hadn’t he?

Logic would argue that I’d passed out and so therefore he realised I posed zero threat but still, could it be that by divulging my past he was starting to comprehend the reasons behind my actions?

Scooping up the spare clothes I hurry to catch Maggie who has already walked away. She makes polite small talk all the way to the communal showers, and even though I offer nothing in way of a response, she doesn’t give up on me. 

“I was in the tower last night on watch,” she keeps her voice down so as not to wake the rest of the prison. “It was mighty quiet, kinda nice to hear nature instead of the walkers, reminded me of being back on the farm.” 

I can’t help but wonder if she knew what had happened. Had Daryl told them all what I’d done, and why? The thought of them all knowing about it, about my past, makes my skin crawl.

We near a door and Maggie holds out a towel. “Here you’ll need this. Showers are just in there.” And with a nod she disappears around the corner.

 

* * *

 

I waste no time, afraid that Daryl would suspect foul play if he wakes and finds me missing. Throwing on the clean clothes and towel drying my hair the best I can, I dart out of the bathroom.

Keeping my head down, I hug my old clothes to my chest and hurry back the way Maggie had brought me. Treading lightly, I keep my noise level to a minimum, not wanting to disturb anyone and face yet more awkward chats.

It would seem my luck has run out though. By the time I reached the communal area, there are already a couple of people wandering about, one of whom I recognise immediately.

“Red,” Carol approaches me. “How did you sleep?”

My head nods of it’s own accord and the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Really good.”

“You want me to take those for you?” She points to my old clothes.

“Oh,” I don’t know how to answer. I’d like them clean so I can wear them again but I don’t see why she should do it for me. “I can wash them—“

“Nonsense, we have a system, you’re going out hunting today so let us deal with those. If you want to repay the favour, bring us back something good.”

My eyes instinctively narrow at her choice of words. “Something good?” Does my right to stay depend on what goodies I can find outside the fences?

Noticing my response, Carol tilts her head and presses her lips into a thin line. “You’ll learn to trust us, given time. You’ll see we’re not like most of the groups out there.” 

She holds out her arms and gestures to my clothes. Hesitantly I concede, there seems little point arguing with her.

“Daryl spoke to me last night.”

My heart drops to my shoes and I don’t know how to react. Thankfully, Carol saves me from myself.

“I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through out there alone but I do know what it’s like to lose someone, we all do here.” She places her hand on my shoulder. “You’re not alone anymore.”

I’m hardly listening to what she’s saying, I’m too horrified that everyone knows my secret. Anger pulses through me and my hands ball into fists. I’m furious that Daryl told them. He’s stripped me naked in front of these people and laid my soul out for all to see without a second thought how it would affect me. For all their talk of being a community, it’s clearly always going to be them and me. I’m destined to be on the outside looking in for the rest of my life, how ever long or short that may be.

Dropping my gaze to the floor, I walk away, thankful that Carol doesn’t try and stop me. With each step my pace quickens until I’m running up the stairs. 

I have to leave. I need to get my backpack and long blades, and run far away from this prison full of pity and empathy. Once I would have handled the situation better, before the world fell I would have dealt with my emotions and faced the people here but that was before I lost my ability to be civil, before I became feral.

I’m halfway to my cell when I notice Daryl’s frame filling my doorway. The sight of him fills me with rage and I don’t think about what I’m doing as I reach for my throwing knife. Stretching my arm back, I narrow my eyes and focus on the spot in-between his eyes but even in my fury, I can’t do it. Frustration mixes with anger and I growl as I lower the blade.

“Get out of my way.”

I wait for him to move or to say something but he does neither. Instead, he just looks at me.

“I said, move.” I try and shove him, my hands pushing against his chest but it barely has any impact.

“Ya in a hurry?” He taunts, folding his arms over his chest and tucking his hands under his armpits.

It takes every ounce of self-control not to take out my knife and cut into his bored, expressionless face.

“I’m leaving, now fucking move!”

One eyebrow raises and he slowly pushes up from the doorframe and steps aside.

“Where ya goin’ Red?”

Collecting my things, I scoff at the absurdity of his question. As if I have any inclination to tell him. Speedily I sling on my holster and throw my backpack over my shoulders. The sooner I get out of here the easier I’ll be able to breathe. I go to move past his hulking frame blocking my way but Daryl has other ideas. Stepping into the cell, he swings the door shut and traps us in.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Can’t let ya go out there all riled up with them knives on your back.” His hair falls into his face as he looks down on me.

“Trapping yourself in here with me was not your brightest move, Daryl.” I warn, my voice low and aggressive.

“Why? If ya wanted ta hurt me, you’d have thrown your knife back there.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

A hint of a smile dances fleetingly across his features. “What happened to get ya so pissy?”

“You!” I snarl, attempting to push him again. 

He seems surprised by my answer. “What’d I do?”

I can’t decide if I should laugh or smack him around the side of his face the handle of my long blade. There’s no way he’s this dumb or clueless, not the way he sees everything, which means he’s messing with me for his own entertainment. My fingers twitch and my breathing speeds. I want nothing more than to beat him black and blue but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my temper. He’s already had far too much from me, he get’s nothing else now. Turning from him, I sit on the bottom bunk, prepared to wait him out. Eventually he’ll have to let me go, and when he does, I will walk calmly to the exit and disappear, never to cross his, or any of the others’ paths again.

“C’mon Red, what’s got ya spittin’ feathers?”

I remain stoic. I will not engage him. He waits and it’s almost amusing that he thinks I’ll play his stupid game. After a moment, he shrugs and sits down at the opposite end of the bed and chews on his thumb nail. God damn him! He’s going to try and wait me out. A quick assessment of the situation and it’s obvious that I’m not going to get anywhere fast unless I talk.

“You told them.” I grind my teeth. “You fucking prick.”

He has the audacity to actually chuckle. “Stop gettin’ ya panties in a twist, I ain’t told no one nothin’”

“Liar!”

He narrows his eyes and leans towards me. “Ain’t no liar.”

“Oh really, so you didn’t speak to Carol last night?”

He smirks. “Yeah I did. Told her ya’d shown me your skills with them blades.”

“And?” For some reason it suddenly becomes the most important thing in my world that he acknowledges my betrayal.

“And that ya’d had a family but don’t no more.”

I’m about to retort but something stops me. What exactly had Carol said? Wracking my brain I try to recall her exact words. She’d said that she knew what it was like to lose someone…

Eyeing Daryl in my peripheral vision, I contemplate the possibility that what he’s saying is true. 

“Why?” I’m perplexed. If he hasn’t told them my past, why not?

“What?”

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

He turns to me. “Ya kidding me? Two minutes ago ya were ready to tear me a new one ‘cos ya thought I’d run my mouth an’ now ya wanna know why I ain’t said nothin’?”

“Yeah.”

Daryl sighs deeply and picks at a thread on his knee. “'S not my place to tell. Figured ya’d say somethin' in ya own time if that’s what ya wanted.”

It’s a simple explanation and despite myself I believe him. There’s something about Daryl that is inherently good. From what I’ve seen in my limited time with him, he’s true to his word, discrete, compassionate, selfless, protective and loyal. These were rare qualities before the world ended, let alone now, but here he sits, this defier of odds.

My anger dissipates, the red mist clearing with each passing second.

“Sorry. I jumped to assumptions. I shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t matter, ya ain't the first, doubt ya’ll be the last.” He says this flippantly, like it’s unimportant, but there’s an undertone in his words that stirs a long forgotten emotion within me. 

I recognise his pain and it hurts to remember the way it feels. Clenching my jaw I try hard to ignore the blanket of empathy wrapped around my shoulders. 

It’s like I’m in a sea of emotion. I’m helpless against the strong currents dragging me from one emotion to the next. The sensation is sickening and foreign. Out on my own I was numb and calm but in here I’m struggling to keep on top of the overwhelming feelings. 

“I don’t know you.” I whisper, trying to shake the emotion by standing and moving around the cramped space. And it’s true, I don’t know him, it was a natural conclusion to draw after speaking to Carol, but despite the logic, I can’t rid myself of the guilt that I’ve done wrong by Daryl.

He’s looking at me again, the same blank expression on his face that he wore last night. “Nah, ya don’t.”

I snap my gaze to his and he immediately looks away. 

“No,” I agree softly, wondering why I suddenly care if I’ve upset him or not. 

_You owe him._

Like a whisper on the breeze, the stray thought blows through my conflicted mind. Yes I owe him, but that’s not enough to cause the dread in the pit of my stomach. Running my hand down my face, I long for the peace that comes with travelling alone. So far, every interaction I’ve had in this prison has led to conflict of some sort and it just goes to prove that I don’t belong here. I make my way to the door and pull. Once again, it’s unlocked.

“Thank you. All of you.” Opening the door wide, I cross the threshold and turn to Daryl, over my shoulder. “I’ll repay the debt I owe somehow but I can’t stay here.” He doesn’t need to know anymore than that so I walk away.

“Ya wanna repay ya debt, come on the run tomorrow. Ain’t got many natural fighters, ya skill with them blades could come in useful.” Daryl sniffs. 

I dip my head to acknowledge him and continue on my way. His steps fall into rhythm with mine. He’s following me. 

“An there’s huntin’ today, replace the food ya ate yesterday.”

Again, I nod.

“An t’night, ya can keep watch in the tower.”

Cogs turn in my head, pulling his words together and forming a strange conclusion. We make our way out in silence as I try to connect the dots another way, but no matter how I look at it, I keep seeing the same thing.

“You’re trying to keep me here.” I state.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Daryl swings his leg over a motorcycle. “If that were true, why am I about to take ya out there?”

“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t try and play it off. You aren’t the only one who sees things. I know what you’re trying to do.” 

In the short time it’s taken to get from my cell to the door, Daryl had formulated a way to keep me here without me having to interact with anyone but him. 

“I’m tryin’a get ya ass on this bike and get out there before the sun goes down but y'ain’t makin’ it easy. Now ya comin’ or not?”

He’s glaring at me, but the hardness is missing from his eyes. As he stares out from under his messy hair, I can just about make out a smile before he places his hands on the handlebars and guns the engine.

Left with little choice, I march over and climb on behind Daryl. Gripping the back of the bike tightly I lean towards my driver, getting a little closer than I’m comfortable with in order for him to hear me above the throaty grumble of the engine.

“What you waiting for, an invitation?”

His lips move but the words are lost to the wind as the bike moves forwards. Whatever he was saying has put a smile on his face though and I’m left with little doubt that it was something I probably wouldn’t have found at all amusing.


	5. Chapter Five

The wind in my hair and the rush from speeding down the empty road lifts my broken spirit. By the time we come to a stop and dismount I’ve all but forgotten Daryl’s manipulation. 

All around, the forest is silent and I close my eyes to enjoy the tranquility for a moment. This is home, not the cramped confine of the cell I’d slept in last night, or the busy communal area with people desperate to jabber on about the most inane of subjects. No, this, the faint rustle of the trees, the snapping of twigs, the breathing of nature… This is home.

When I open my eyes, I’m met by the most peculiar expression on Daryl’s face. Our eyes connect for a moment and if I didn’t know better I’d think he feels exactly the same. But then he blinks and the moment is lost. His customary scowl slips back into place and he turns his back to me as he makes his way into the undergrowth.

Silently I follow, enjoying the familiar sights, sounds and smells of being back outside the fence and walls of the prison. It’s only been a day but even that’s too long.

A soft noise behind me brings me to a halt. Dropping into a crouch I turn and wait. There’s something out there, something small and quick.

Readying my throwing knife, I concentrate hard. There wasn’t enough noise for it to be at ground level, which means it’s in the trees. My best guess would be a squirrel but it’s not unknown to find an opossum in this area. 

A flash of movement and my body reacts before I can engage my brain. The knife glints in the sun as it pins the squirrel to the tree, the blade impaled in the center of it’s back. 

A little way down, the familiar drag of feet alerts me to a nearby walker, and I scowl. There’s no way that thing is taking my kill. Standing up I peer through the trees to see the rotting, emaciated carcass of a man stumbling towards the squirrel. 

“Wait.” Daryl whispers, moving to stand behind me, his crossbow raised. He steps closer and I lean to the side, watching from the corner of my eye as he holds his weapon sure and steady. 

A breath later and the bolt takes down our visitor, piercing his skull in the dead center of his forehead.

“Impressive shot.” I comment.

“Ya didn’t do so bad yourself.” Daryl counters, striding to the fallen walker and retrieving his bolt. Heading back towards my kill, he gesturers with his head and chews the inside of his cheek waiting for my permission. It’s something of nothing, but I can’t help the tug of a smile as I nod and wonder how many other people would have just taken the squirrel, my presence be damned. But not Daryl. No, he waits for permission, like a true gentleman. 

There’s so much at odds with this man and I’m beginning to find him somewhat fascinating. I have no doubt he’s a stone cold killer and wouldn’t think twice about breaking my neck if I got on the wrong side of him but there’s more to him than just the rough exterior. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He bites, fastening the kill to his belt.

“I’m just trying to figure you out.” I don’t see any reason not to engage him. Truth be told I’m much more relaxed out here and feel less threatened the longer we wander the woodland. My mind isn’t as jumbled and my thought process is less disjointed allowing me to assess everything in a more analytical manner. 

“Why? Thought you weren’t stickin’ round. What’s the point in getting’ to know me if you’re just gonna run soon as yer debt’s paid?”

I’ve noticed he does that a lot and not just with me. He has a knack for turning the spotlight back on anyone who focuses on him for too long. Except Rick, he seemed completely at ease with Rick last night.

“You’re a puzzle. I can’t read you and that makes me nervous.” Talking with Daryl isn’t like conversing with anyone else I’ve ever met. He’s closed off in some respects but so open and honest in others. I’m both drawn to and deterred by him in equal measures. He doesn’t reply with words but a low rumble deep in his chest acknowledges me.

“How did you come to be with those people?” I ask.

He sniffs. “I was jus’ followin’ ma brother, Merle. We found some of ‘em back at Atlanta. Lost some on the way an’ picked up others. The rest came from a town not too far from here or were strays like you.”

Merle. That was not a name I was familiar with, I’d definitely not heard it back at the prison, which meant only one thing, Merle was dead. So Daryl and I had something in common, we were both without our families. Except Daryl was far from alone, the way he interacted with the others, the way they responded to him, they were tight, a unit, a family.

He’s looking at me, quick glances from the corner of his eye when he thinks I’m not paying attention and I wonder if he’s expecting me to speak. Keeping my head bowed, I hide behind my curtain of hair, happy to lose myself to the silence. I don’t feel the need to drag out this conversation. He’d answered my question and I had all I needed. 

Drawing one of my long blades from my back, I circle it in my hand, the weight and balance of the knife a constant reminder that I don’t have people of my own. That despite his presence, Daryl was as much of a stranger to me as anyone else behind those fences. 

Peering up through the canopy, I search for the sun. It’s still early and there’s plenty of time to hunt. If we were lucky and the animals played ball, I’d cut my debt in a single day.

Stretching my neck from side to side, I crouch low and prowl forward. The hunt is on.

 

* * *

 

The sun hangs low in the sky and it’s late as we drive through the gates of the prison. We’ve had successful day hunting and as we dismount the bike, Rick approaches, eyeing our haul appreciatively.

“Seems like you two had quite the day.” 

Daryl shrugs. “She ain’t half bad. Quiet and steady, and I ain’t never seen anyone throw a knife like she can. Woman’s got a knack for picking out a squirrel twenty feet or more away.”

I bristle as Daryl discusses me like I’m not even here. Turning away from the men, I head into the building and make my way to the roof as fast as I can. I don’t appreciate being spoken about in that way, it reminds me of the group of men who took us captive. To them we weren’t people, just things, and they made sure we knew it. The language they used, the tone, it served to keep us in our place. Although Daryl hadn’t meant to, he’d just treated me exactly as those lowlife’s had, and it hurt. I half expect him to follow me, but as darkness falls, I find myself alone. Walking the length of the building, I ignore the low hissing of the dead. Whilst we’ve been gone a new group have gathered at the fence. My mood hasn’t improved in my solitude and as the walkers continue, I find myself growing more pissed off at the people below, no doubt inside enjoying their food. 

There can’t be that many walkers, surely it wouldn’t have taken too much for them to patrol the fence and take them out. I shake away the increasing anger. I don’t know what happened here today and I shouldn’t allow the walkers noises to rile me like this, for all I know there could have been some kind of emergency that drew the people away from fence clearing duty. Spinning on my heel, I retrace my steps back towards the guard tower. As I near it, a sharp whistle and “You comin’?” reach my ears.

Daryl.

Without a word, I head back inside and make my way to the exit. I don’t hurry though. I know he’ll want to know why I disappeared the way I did and I’m in no mood to play twenty questions with the redneck.

I arrive at the stairs to the tower much sooner than I wanted to, to find him smoking at the doorway. He puts his cigarette to his lips and inhales one last time before flicking it away.

“There’s a rifle at the top of the stairs.” He mumbles, walking ahead of me.

The door shuts and we’re engulfed in darkness.

“I’ve never used one, wouldn’t know where to start with it.” My voice echoes off the walls and seems a thousand times louder than it actually is.

“Never?” He doesn’t try to hide his disbelief.

“No. I’m good with knives so I stick with them.”

“Well ya gonna have t’ learn.”

At the top of the stairs, we walk out onto an open platform and true to his word, two rifles are propped against the door that leads inside the tower.

“Here, let me show you the basics.” He hands me a rifle before holding open the door for me.

I can’t help the sigh that escapes but I obediently wander into the tower without complaint. I have no interest in guns however it wouldn’t hurt to learn a few things and whilst I’m stubborn, I’m not stupid. I’m still annoyed with the way Daryl spoke about me earlier, but it wasn’t something he did intentionally and passing up a chance to learn a new skill because I’m in a mood seems like one hell of a wasted opportunity.

“Alright, I’m listening.” 

Daryl has picked up his own rifle and is messing around with it when I speak. Looking up through his hair, he grunts softly and nods before launching into my first lesson.

 

* * *

 

Dawn rises and with it another new day approaches. In the tower Daryl is sleeping fitfully. I can hear him each time he wakes, his slight groans of complaint as he changes position or stands to look out the windows. I wonder if he’s searching for me or checking the perimeter. Maybe both. At the moment he’s silent and I assume he’s sleeping. I’m wrong.

“Why d’you like it up there so much?”

I’m startled by his gruff voice, instinctively gripping tighter to the roof as he shatters the relative silence.

“Well for starters, I can see any danger coming.” I call down from my perch on the ridge. It wasn’t the easiest of climbs, the roof overhangs the walkway and I’d had to stand on the metal railing to get up here, but it was worth it.

“Ya can see plenty from in here.”

“There are no walls.” I confess quietly. “I’m freer up here.”

Daryl emerges onto the walkway and grips hold of the railings to survey the area.

Behind us, the prison door opens and a couple step into the early sun. I don’t recognize them but Daryl does.

“Sasha and Bob.” He states. “They’re taking over from us.”

Heaviness weighs down on my shoulders; it’s time to leave my perch. The prospect of having to make small talk over breakfast makes my stomach churn and I contemplate staying here for the rest of the day only I know no matter how much I want to, I can’t stay hidden in the clouds. 

With a huff, I hand my rifle to Daryl and carefully navigate the edge of the roof. Swinging over the side, I drop onto the walkway a few feet away from my companion who shakes his head at me.

“Don’t matter how high ya climb, Red, ya ain’t never gonna escape your demons.” 

My heart lurches in my chest and my breathing hitches. “How?” I demand. “How do you do that?” It’s infuriating that I can watch him for hours and hardly learn a thing about him and yet he sees through me like I’m invisible.

“Hey guys, how’d it go?” The woman, Sasha, bursts through the door with Bob not far behind. 

“Quiet.” Daryl answers, handing over the rifles and making off down the stairs at some speed.

I keep my eyes averted as I pass the two newcomers and they take the hint, letting me leave without attempting to talk to me.

Instead of scurrying after Daryl when I reach the bottom of the tower I meander along to the outer fence. Despite skipping dinner the light before, I’m not hungry, my body just isn’t used to three square meals a day.

I decide to use my time productively as opposed to simply avoiding the rest of the early wakers.

A small group of walkers have gathered by the fence but they’re spread out. Starting at one side of the compound, I entice the stray dead closer before using one of my long blades to take them down. The morning grows quieter with each body that crumples to the ground. It doesn’t take too long before they’re all dealt with and I can enjoy a moment of peace.

Unfortunately, the peace, as always, doesn’t last long. Sooner than I’d like, I’m being called.

“Hey, Red.”

Slowly I face the man calling me. He’s holding gloves in his hands and wearing a look of concern from the other side of the inner fence.

I falter. I’ve not actually spoken to Rick yet and I’m uncomfortable that there isn’t anyone else here to act as a buffer.

“Ya don’t have to do it all. I know ya went huntin’ yesterday and took the night watch last night. Ya don’t have the clear the walkers as well. We got plenty of people here more than willin’ to do the work.”

My gaze falls to my boots and I shuffle from one foot to another uneasily. “In all honestly, I needed the silence.”

I can feel him staring, the intensity of his eyes burning my skin. Finally he drops his head and steps away with a small, humorless chuckle. “Yeah, I get that.”

I’m more than relieved when he walks away to tend the vegetable garden, leaving me alone once more to listen to the trees and the distant calls of the prison’s residents as they begin their day.


	6. Chapter 6

I’ve found my way to the cars and am sat cross-legged on the bonnet of one when Daryl stalks over. 

“Ya eaten anythin’?” He scowls, barely looking at me.

“I’m not—“

“Ya not comin’ if y'ain’t eaten. End of.”

There’s something wrong with him. He isn’t as graceful as he usually his, his tell tale swagger has been replaced by stiff, staccato movements which lack confidence. 

Not wanting to get on his wrong side, I slide off the car. “I’ll go get something now.” I say, holding my hands up in surrender.

“Ya’d better. Don’t bother comin’ back ‘till your belly’s full.” 

He turns away, effectively dismissing me, and I watch him stomp over to Rick.

“What ever you say, sunshine.” I breathe; glad to be out of his line of fire. 

Inside the oppressive building I grab a bowl of oatmeal and take it to my cell to eat. The small room is claustrophobic but it’s better than sitting with people I don’t know, trying and failing to make small talk. 

As soon as I enter my cell I spy my old clothes on the top bunk. They’re clean and neatly folded. Holding up my shirt I notice that Carol had even repaired a hole in the arm. At the thought of the older woman my heart picks up speed and I guiltily chew my bottom lip. I’d rushed away from her yesterday when all she’d done was show me kindness. Changing back into my old clothes, I slip on my jacket and slide my knives into place. In my own clothes I begin to get a sense of myself again, and with it a renewed confidence. Although I’m not particularly hungry I manage to finish the oatmeal in record time. It wasn’t half bad and I have a sneaking suspicion that Carol cooked it. Setting out to return my bowl, I’m determined to speak to Carol before the day is out. I’ve been too closed off, too self-reliant and it’s dehumanized me. The years I’ve been alone have not done me any favors in this department.  
The prison is almost fully awake and as I drop my bowl into the cleaning container, Beth appears next to me bouncing Judith on their hip. 

“Hey, didn’t see you around yesterday, everything alright?” Beth’s wide eyes search me up and down, her gaze full of concern.

Looking at the petite blonde, I can’t help the maternal instinct that bubbles inside. She’s nothing short of adorable and in another life I would have loved spending time with her, but for some reason, it just hurts now to be around her.

“I’m good. I went hunting. Going on a run today too so…” I force myself to hold her gaze, only I can’t. 

“Okay, well be careful.” She offers, walking away from our stunted exchange, leaving me free to let out the breath I’ve been holding.

“You’ll get used to it.” Carol says joining me. Clearly she heard the awkward conversation. 

“Carol, I,” I point at my jacket. “Thank you.”

Her eyes narrow slightly and she takes hold of my arm, “We need to talk, Red.” Discretely she escorts me out of the prison and around a corner away from the rest of the residents.

“Look,” She lets go of me and rests her hands on her hips. “I know you’re struggling to fit in here.” Her eyes dart around the empty space before landing back on me. “I know you’ve lost your family and you’re so used to being alone that being cooped up with so many new faces is … difficult, but you’ve got to try.”

My fingers inch closer to my belt and the small knife resting there. I’d thought Carol was someone I could learn to trust but the way she’s behaving is setting my nerve endings on fire.

She stops talking to take hold of the top of my arms, catching me off guard. Without realizing what I’m doing, I throw myself back, slamming into the wall to avoid her touch whilst sliding my long blades free.

“Oh, honey.” Her shoulders droop and her head lilts to the side. “See this is what I mean. I brought you out here to tell you you’re amongst friends and to ask you to start taking better care of yourself.” She paces back and forth in front of me. “You didn’t come inside at all last night, you’re hardly eating and this wall you’ve put up around yourself just keeps getting bigger.” Her soft gaze meets mine and a burning heat spreads up my neck to my face. I drop my arms limply to my sides and sever our eye contact as shame engulfs me.

“We don’t expect you to open up over night, or ever, but you have to try and trust us if you’re going to stay… And we want you to stay. I want you to stay. You’ve helped provide for us, helped clear the walkers, helped with sentry duty and you’ve only been here two days.” Carol purses her lips in a half smile that doesn’t reach her saddened eyes. “I know that look, I know why you’re pulling away, but it’s not the way you heal, it’s not the way you move on. It’s hard to let people in after something has hurt you that deep, but it really is the only way.”

I want the ground to open up and swallow me. I was about ready to slice her in two and all she was trying to do is show me she cares. 

What the hell is wrong with me, am I really _that_ broken? I already know the answer to that question though.

“Red, please, you don’t have to talk, you don’t have to engage us, just stop segregating yourself. Can you at least do that?”

Like a chastised child, I nod, quickly putting my weapons away.

“Good, because you’ll die alone otherwise.” Her face is hard but she’s not attacking me, she’s calling it as she sees it. “You’re right, you have to take care of yourself, keep something back to protect yourself but you still need to fit in, play your part. Do you understand me?”

I do and it’s alarming that she seems to understand me so well. How is it she and Daryl read me so easily? 

Carol waits for me to answer but I can’t, I don’t want to confirm her suspicions. In the background I can hear everyone starting their daily chores. Laughter echoes through the exercise yard and we both wait to see if the other will speak first. 

Unable to stand the tension any longer, I rush past Carol mumbling an apology. Rounding the corner at speed I plow straight into Daryl, almost knocking him down. He curses as his hands grip my shoulders in a futile attempt to steady me.

“Shit!” I jump away, wrenching free of his grasp. “Sorry.” It’s all I can manage in my emotional state. 

“Everythin’ alright?” His eyes flicker over my shoulder and rest on something behind me. “Somethin’ happen?” 

I realize Carol has made another appearance. I’m trapped. 

“You’ve got to stop running eventually, Red.” Carol says gently.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out don’t you? Both of you! Well you don’t. You don’t know me. You don’t know shit so why don’t you both back the fuck off and leave me the hell alone.” I’m lashing out and I know I am. They’ve cornered me and the only way I can survive is if I come out fighting. “Just let me be.” Summoning every last ounce of courage I have, I dodge Daryl and run to the cars getting ready to leave. There are two in total and I’m relieved to see that one is a pickup with a loadbay. The guy I saw after I woke up, Glenn, is behind the wheel and he watches me with open curiosity as I pass by. Pulling myself up, I climb into the loadbay and settle down. 

“There’s room upfront.” Glenn calls.

“I’m good.”

Resting my head on my knees and lost in my thoughts I mull over what Carol said. As her voice echoes in my mind I bounce back and forth between indignation and remorse until Glenn drags me into the present.

“You ready man? We’re all good to go here.” He calls.

“You seen Red?” Daryl asks him.

“Yeah. In the back.” 

“M’kay. Let’s go.”

Holding my breath I pray that Daryl will leave me to my own devices. My prayer goes unanswered. He slings his crossbow into the back and hops in after it. A double tap to the roof of the cab let’s Glenn know he’s in, and then we’re moving, bouncing down the uneven track to the main gate.

I have nothing more to say to him and there’s little I want to hear so I take lay down, curling into a ball away from Daryl and resting my head on my arm. The floor is unforgiving until we get out onto the main road, past the worst of the bumps. As the highway stretches out behind us, I’m able to find comfort in the humming of the engine, the heat of the sun and the rocking of the suspension. The night on watch takes its toll and slowly but surely, I relax. 

 

The next thing I’m aware of is silence when Glenn cuts the engine. Springing up, I glance around. We’ve stopped at a small strip mall. The parking lot is littered with abandoned cars and the storefronts are mostly boarded up.

Getting my bearings, I stand and stretch out my muscles, loosening the knots that have formed during the journey.

“Red,” Daryl catches my eye and holds it, “With me, stay close.”

Putting my issues aside, I scan the vicinity for any sign of the undead. There’s movement in a car a little way up but the doors are shut, trapping the walker safely inside. Keeping my mouth shut, I make sure I’m never too far from Daryl as we move from store to store. The first two are a bust; the best we get is some clean sheets and a camping stove. As we approach the third store, a scream pierces the air and two of our men stumble out of clothing shop carrying a woman and followed closely by another.

“She bit?” Daryl shouts. 

One of the men waves him back. 

“Walkers! Lots of them.” The uninjured woman yells.

They hurry to us, half carrying half dragging their friend. Blood pours from an open wound on her neck and it’s clear she’s not going to live despite their best efforts.

“How many?” Glenn asks.

The men just point, their ashen faces telling the story without the need to look.

“You three, in the car.” Daryl commands. 

“But what about Sam, we can’t—“

“Sorry man, there’s nothin’ we can do for her now. Glenn, Red, get to the truck.”

The noise reaches my ears seconds before I see them. The hissing and grumbling of the undead, a symphony I will never get used to. A herd of walkers stumble out of the store the others have just fled, their rotting flesh hanging off their emaciated bodies. They’ve been locked in there for some time, possibly even since the start.

“Glenn, now!” Daryl snaps.

“Wait.” There’s a dozen, possibly twenty of the uncoordinated corpses at most. “We can take them.” I gesture to the walkers.

“Are you out of your mind?” The woman who wasn’t hurt glares at me. “There’s at least 5 of them for every one of us.”

“No, c’mon Red, we’re leaving.” Daryl catches my elbow and tows me along side of him away from the oncoming dead.

“Daryl, I can take at least half of them, you know I can. That doesn’t leave many for the rest of you—“

“I said no!”

“Just think about it for a minute. That store has been left untouched, who knows what could be in there—“

“So we come back, we’re not doing this now.”

He’s being ridiculous. “Seriously, Daryl, let’s—“

The first car speeds past us and I curse loudly at the driver. “Look, if we leave someone else will come and take the stuff that we need.”

The walkers are closing in and Daryl is losing his patience. “Fine, let ‘em have it. 'S not worth risking any more of us.”

“Come on!” Glenn shouts, pulling up next to us and leaning across to open the door. 

Daryl narrows his eyes at me and growls menacingly, “Get your ass in or I throw you in.”

“Unbelievable!” I can’t understand why he’s so unwilling to listen to reason. It wouldn’t be hard to get rid of the walkers, especially given that at least two of us are skilled with our weapons. But he’s the one calling the shots so I do as he asks. 

Despite the fact I’m already halfway into the car, Daryl pushes me, sending me sprawling into the middle seat. 

“Let’s go.” He shouts, diving in next to me and slamming his door. Glenn doesn’t need telling twice, he puts his foot down, hurtling us away from the strip mall at breakneck speed.

It’s an old truck and my seat is damaged. Half of it has somehow been decimated and it isn’t leaving much room for a third passenger. Righting myself, I perch unsteadily on the edge, huffing at the absurdity of what just happened.

Keeping my voice level I vent my frustration. “That was bullshit and you know it. There was a whole bunch of us, we could have taken down that small herd without anyone getting hurt.”

Glenn, seeing that I’m holding on for dear life, slows the truck a little. “There were too many,” he protests, “a group that size can do serious damage.”

Daryl is leaning against his door worrying his thumbnail. His knees are splayed open, eating into what limited space I have, not that he notices, he’s too wrapped up in his own mind. 

“The others ain’t like us,” he replies quietly. “They ain’t seen much action. They were scared an’ weren’t thinkin’ straight. Chances are they’d’ve been more dangerous than the walkers, all het up and full a the fear a god.”

“So what in hell were they doing out here?”

“They volunteered.”

I’m rendered seachless by this information. 

“You’ve got to understand, Red,” Glenn chips in, “we need to go on supply runs to keep the prison running, and we can’t always take the most experienced people. It’s not that cut and dry. The guys with us today, they all volunteered willingly. They knew the risk and—“

“But did they? If they aren’t experienced how can you expect them to know what they’re getting themselves into?”

“They’ve seen the walkers up close. They’ve all done fence clearing duty and we make sure they can use a gun, what more can we do? We need to do these runs and we need people to come on them. They know what they’re signing up for, we make sure of it.”

As he talks, Glenn looks at me in earnest, his expression pleading with me to understand their predicament. And I do. They have to play the hand they’re dealt, which means sometimes making hard calls. Like the one back there. I’d assumed they could all fight, but in hindsight it was easy to see the sheer terror overruling their ability to think rationally. Daryl was right; they’d have done more harm than good.

Glenn smiles as my face softens, returning his full attention to the open road. Only, it’s not so open anymore.

“Shit!” 

The brakes slam on and I’m thrown forward. Reaching out with my hands, I push against the dash, fighting the momentum hurling my body forward. Next to me, Daryl has braced one arm against the column between the door and windshield and his legs are anchored in the foot well, holding him in place. His free arm slams across my torso and pins me back against the seat as Glenn tries his best not to hit the car blocking the highway.

Gritting my teeth, I fight to stay in place. My arms and legs braced as I wait for the impact that never comes. Against all the odds, Glenn has done the impossible. The three of us sit panting, too shocked to move, as the car bounces to a stand still. Glenn is gripping the steering wheel for dear life and Daryl and I are a mess of limbs pressed against various surfaces of the truck. My faculties slowly return and looking out at the scene in front of us I’m reminded of a similar situation. “Don’t get out!” I breathe. “We need to leave, we need to go right now.”

Daryl is locked in place, his muscular arm tense and unmoving as I twist around to take in our surroundings. 

An empty car is blocking both lanes of the road. Three of the doors are open and inside there’s a large bag strewn across the back seat.

“Daryl, please, you have to believe me when I say this isn’t safe, it’s a trap, we have to go.”

“I believe ya, Glenn go round, don’t stop fer nothin’”

Fear sends a cold shiver down my spine. “I’ve seen this before.” I whisper.

Daryl huffs in annoyance and it’s not until I look around that I realize I’m leaning into him. He’s unhappy with my proximity but his irritation soon disappears when he sees the look at my face. 

“C’mon man.” He urges Glenn, his gaze remaining on me.

Glenn throws the truck into drive and quickly passes the blockade. For the next few minutes we’re silent. Glenn keeps his eyes glued to the road and Daryl and I search the trees for signs of danger.

“Go the long way, if we got a tail we don’t wanna lead ‘em back.”

My heart is in my mouth whilst simultaneously trying to hammer its way out of my chest. The last time I’d seen that particular trick my family had still been alive.

“Y’alright?” Daryl nudges my elbow.

“That’s what they did, that’s how they got us. We stopped to see what was in the car…” I keep my voice low and turn away from Glenn as I speak. 

“Hey, look at me.”

Staring up into his blue eyes, the memory torturing me is replaced by his firm resolve.

“Ya fine, what happened, it’s over. Y’ain’t got no reason ta fret.”

“She okay?” Glenn asks.

Running a hand over my face I sit back as best I can in the broken seat but I keep a little closer to Daryl than is strictly necessary. Something about his looming presence calms me.

“I’m good, let’s just get back.”

If Daryl notices my leg touching his, he doesn’t show it. His body is tense but he hasn’t angled it away like he had before.

The rest of the journey is made in silence, each of us contemplating the day’s events. Every now and then I feel Daryl’s gaze on me, it only makes me retreat further into myself. The scare with the car has opened up old wounds and quite honestly; I’m about ready to just bleed out.


	7. Chapter 7

Back at the prison we are bombarded with questions. Carol, Hershel, Maggie and two people I don’t know fire words at us, trying to get a handle on what happened. I have nothing to say so I hover next to the truck, lingering behind Glenn and Daryl, letting them field the queries. No one seems to notice or mind my refusal to participate anyway.

 

Tuning their many voices out, I search the perimeter fence and beyond, looking for any trace of life and danger. The tree branches are still but I can’t shake the sensation that we’re being watched. My skin prickles as the eyes of ghosts bore holes into my flesh. 

They aren’t out there. They can’t be, I made sure of that, but I can still feel them watching, the weight of their gaze crushing me in a deathly embrace. My heart stutters, fighting for freedom from the recollection of their leering. I’m self aware enough to know it’s just a psychosomatic response to the memories stirred by the abandoned car but it doesn’t lesson the impact. 

My vision pulses with each beat, disorienting and knocking me off balance. Steadying myself against the truck I swallow the terror and work at slowing my breaths. Counting silently, I inhale and exhale until the throbbing behind my eyes dulls enough for my sight to return to normal.

A gentle hand touches my chin and pulls my head to the side. Rough fingers at odds with the softness of the grip manipulate me into facing a companion I didn’t realize was there. Daryl. He lets his hand drop once I connect to his gaze.

“Ya with us?”

I stare at him blankly considering each implication of his ambiguous question. A shrug is the only answer I can come up with because I don’t know if I am. I don’t know if I’ll ever be truly one hundred percent with anyone ever again when such a big part of me has been lost.

 

* 

 

Dinner is a more somber affair this evening. After the loss of the woman, Jessica, there’s a melancholy resonating from the people who knew her well and sympathy from those who didn’t. I don’t fall into either group but as I’m trying to make amends with Carol, I stay in the communal area to eat my food – all be it from a perch on the walkway overhead. I watch as they interact with one another and it’s clear to see who belongs to whom. The groups are mingling, their lines blurred but it’s still obvious who came from Woodbury and who was found like me. Then there’s the last group, the originals who set up the prison. They confuse me. 

The longer I watch the more I compare them to a tribe. They move in synchronization, without the need confirm what the others are doing, they seem to instinctively know. There’s a trust between them that is almost infallible and I wonder how any of the outsiders find a way in. It seems to me that the nomads are social parasites, leaching onto the accepted hierarchy in order to fulfill their own need for company. Except me, I’m just a pariah. 

Once again, Daryl is by Rick’s side and the two are engrossed in conversation. I’m aware of Daryl’s swift gaze flickering to me briefly to confirm my whereabouts and it draws my attention to him. I couldn’t answer him earlier. I couldn’t even form a single word but he’d stayed with me anyway, accepting my inability to function without pushing me to interact. And once again, his presence had drawn me out of my fear and back into the land of the living. Without saying a word he’d guided me back. Staring down at him, I wonder what his story is. He’s a hard man to read and his many facets sometimes leave me dizzy. He’s respected, that much is clear, and yet he often acts like the whole prison is against him and he has something to prove. As far as I can see, there’s no one here who would dare stand up to him, not that they should, he only ever does what’s in the best interest of the group. He catches my unwavering eyes and frowns. He doesn’t like being in the spotlight, this much I know, but I don’t look away. I want to understand him then maybe I can move on to the next person until I eventually feel comfortable enough to mix with these people. 

His gaze darts to mine so frequently that Rick turns to see what is distracting him. They both look up at me, their mouths moving as they continue talking only now I’m pretty sure the topic of conversation has changed. They’re a strange pair. Rick seems reserved but I’ve heard people talking about what he was, what he’s been through. I know better than to listen to idle gossip though so I’ve taken it all with a pinch of salt. Scanning the room I’m as torn as I ever was. I want to stay and go in equal measures and the constant push pull of confliction is wearing me down. I’m tired but I already know there’ll be no sleep tonight in that god-forsaken cell. Rubbing my eyes I sigh wearily. I want to sleep on the roof but I know that will be viewed as yet another attempt to pull away from the community they’re building.

 _So? It’s your life._ The devil on my shoulder sneers and it’s hard to argue with him. It _is_ my life, but I’m so very tired of fighting. Pulling my legs to my chest, I rest my chin on my knees and hug myself. All I seem to do is fight. Fight the undead. Fight the living. Fight the memories. Fight for survival. Surely there has to be more to life? What about happiness? When does that come into play? There has to be a light at the end of this darkness or else what’s the point? Is there even a point anymore? My unseeing eyes stare ahead blankly as I slowly process my thoughts. Maybe death isn’t the worst thing in this new world after all. Dying would sure as hell be a lot easier than all this. Caught in the confines of my mind I don’t notice Daryl emerge from the shadows until he’s a few feet away. His appearance however doesn’t surprise me, he has a knack of finding me when I’m preoccupied and my guard is down.

“Whatcha doin’ up here?” He asks, peering down at me.

“Flirting with death.” 

My reply unsettles him and he starts nervously chewing his thumb and watching me closely. “Ya sayin’ ya wanna die?” 

I consider this for a moment. “Not particularly. I just think it’d be easier than all this. Besides, what’s left that’s really worth living for?”

“If that’s what ya really think, why ya still here?”

I laugh and look up at him. “Because I’m too damn stubborn to die.”

His brows furrow and I’m glad to see that he’s unable to gauge me for once. 

“I’m tired, Daryl.” I move to join him and he almost flinches as I come to stand by his side. “I’m tired of fighting everything and myself. I can’t give in, I won’t quit, it’s not in my nature, but for this moment I’ve had enough of it all. I wish I could shut it up, the demon inside, but—“ I’ve done it again. My mouth has betrayed me by voicing my thoughts before I could engage my brain. “I’d give my right hand for a bottle of whiskey.” I sigh, walking away. As I descend the steps I decide that the only way out of this funk is to tackle my problems head on. More fighting, I think sullenly. Once I hit the ground floor, I head straight to Carol who looks both confused and pleased as I call out her name.

“Red, hi.“ 

“I heard what you said.” I tell her, imploring her to understand. “I really did and I’m going to try hard but I can’t sleep in that cell.”

“Okay.” She draws the word out and tilts her head.

“Good.” I nod. I don’t think she’s pieced together that I’m referring to our chat this morning but she will and that’s good enough. There are too many eyes on me at the moment and I don’t feel anywhere near comfortable enough to elaborate so I take my leave and head out of the room. My feet carry me straight to where my heart wants to go and as I break out into the cooler air, the depression that’s been riding me since our return to the prison, lifts. 

Out here on the rooftop I find my sense of freedom.

Pulling my jacket closer, I settle down next to the doorway. Stretching out, I stare up at the heavens, my eyes drifting to the constellations, reading them as I would an old favorite book. In the pale moonlight, my anxiousness melts away and I’m able to breathe freely. A song plays in the back of my mind and absently I hum along and close my eyes. 

I’m safe and I’m free. 

In the protection of my self-imposed solitary confinement, I don’t just let my guard down; I dismiss it for the night. My humming turns into soft singing as I smile at the stars and slowly unwind. In the tranquility of the night I begin to see a way to fit in here, a way to make it work. Having somewhere to retreat to helps contemplate rebuilding my life with these people. A rap on the back of the metal door breaks the tranquility and I sit up quickly.

“Hello?”

“Red?” Carol pokes her head around the door, smiling when she spots me. “Daryl said I’d find you here. He told me to give you these too.” She hands me two blankets.

“Ah, thanks?” I’m at a loss for words.

“You like it up here.” She looks out over the vista, the moonlight painting everything silver. “I can see why.”

It’s time to put my theory into practice. Carol has tried, time and time again, to get me to open up and I kept running away. Well not anymore. If I want to make this work, and I truly think I do, I have to start trusting.

“Carol, I’m sorry, I haven’t been the easiest guest—“

“You’re not a guest,” she cuts me off, “you’re one of us now.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far but … I’d like to be. I mean, eventually. But you have to understand, I’m not a people person, I struggle to connect.”

She lets out a chuckle as she makes her way back to me and sits down opposite. “And yet here you are connecting with me and Daryl of all people.”

Her comment throws me. What does she mean?

“Sorry,” she smiles, waving a hand at me, “I think I interrupted you.”

Frowning slightly I decide to let my question drop. “Yeah,” I say hesitantly, “I, ah… I had it rough and I didn’t just lose everything, I had it taken from me in a very violent, horrific way. I’ve never really recovered, I don’t think I ever will, but I have survived. Only I’ve become too self-reliant. Living alone for, what I’m guessing is years now, hasn’t put me in good stead to join a community like this one.” I bite my lip and wrap my arms around myself. “I’m very broken and I don’t think I fix myself. But … I want to at least try and fit in, I want to … belong again.” I exhale and the tension in my shoulders gives way a little. I’m beyond uncomfortable but this is what I have to do if I’m going to stay so I deal with it. 

“I’m broken too.” Carol admits in a quiet voice. “As is Daryl. And Rick, and Maggie and, well, just about everyone else here. We’re all just trying the best we can. So okay, you don’t do small talk, that’s fine. You don’t have to be like anyone else to fit in, you just have to be patient. It’s not all flowers and hearts and you can see that, I like that about you. And I like that you’re willing to do what’s needed in order to get the job done. Just try and accept us, it’s time to stop fighting against us. We won’t hurt you, we won’t let you down.”

Words. It’s all just words and she knows it as well as I do. What makes the difference are actions – like bringing me blankets because I need to sleep on the roof – that’s what solidifies my resolve to let her in.

“I had a baby girl.” My voice is detached and flat but it has to be. If I let myself feel when I tell her, I won’t be able to get the words out. “I had a husband. I had a family. They were taken from me by a group of men who tried to use them to get me to murder. They murdered them in front of me and so I killed them all. They are the seven people I killed.”

I want to tell her the whole story but I don’t have it in me. I can’t form the words and push them out so instead I swallow them down with a shudder.

“Sophia.” Carol whispers, her tone eerily similar to mine. “She was my baby girl. She was twelve.” 

My eyes snap to hers and in that one look I see my pain reflected back at me. We were mothers without children, lost in a world in which we didn’t belong. 

“Tasha was two.”

No more words are needed; conversation becomes redundant as we share in each other’s grief. It’s a bond that holds us together now, one neither of us wanted but one we can never escape.

Under the twinkling stars we let the day run out in quiet companionship. At some point Carol shifts to sit next to me and I throw the blankets over us. The temperature is dropping but I don’t think she’s ready to leave just yet. So we stay huddled next to one another, finding comfort in the fact that we are far from alone in our agony, and whilst we’ve suffered through the worst, we’ve both survived. I’d also hasten to bet that in some ways we’ve both come out stronger.

A while later, the door is tentatively opened and we turn to look as Daryl steps out onto the roof. It takes him a second to find us. When his gaze falls upon us huddled under the blankets against the wall his mouth opens as if he’s about to speak but instead he traps his bottom lip between his teeth and starts chewing. He doesn’t make any other movement so I resume my stargazing. I’m guessing he’s come to get Carol or check that I haven’t done anything stupid. After a few seconds, he drops his crossbow from his shoulder and strides over. Standing in front of us he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and I can just about hear the cogs turning in his head. 

What he does next confuses me no end. Instead of speaking he moves to my right and slides down the wall next to me, seating himself at my side. Glancing to my left, I look to Carol for an explanation but get nothing. She’s still looking out at the view; the only change is the slight smile she’s wearing. Flanked by the two of them, I feel my chest tighten. I’d come up here to get away from people to give myself a chance to breathe; with the pair of them next me I can’t ignore the claustrophobia creeping in. Forcing myself to find the North Star, I trace my gaze over the constellations again. Counting through my breaths I rub one thumb in small circles over the back of the other, focusing on the feel of my rough thumb pad. The tricks work. Slowly but surely my pulse slows and my body relaxes until I can acknowledge that actually, it’s quite nice not being alone. And this small achievement helps me believe that maybe one day I can fit in here.

On my right, Daryl pulls his knees up and clenches his arms around them. Without thinking, I adjust the blankets until I’ve tossed them over the three of us. He freezes as I accidentally drag my hand down his arm, his sudden tensing pulling me from autopilot. Snatching back my arm I hold my breath and glare at the horizon. I can’t believe what I’ve just done, that I, yet again, dropped my guard and acted without thinking. After a moment, Daryl nudges me with his elbow. Reluctantly I glance out of the corner of my eye, too embarrassed to turn my face to him. He nods curtly, his blue eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them, his expression peaceful. Moving my gaze back I mirror his position, folding into myself and resting my forehead on my knees. I hate the way I can’t keep my walls up around him. For some unknown reason he slips past my defenses every time and I can’t figure out how. What is it about him that disarms me? 

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I mull over my thoughts. Once again conflicting emotions battle for precedence as I swing from anxiety about Daryl and the comfort I’ve found in Carol. By the time the two of them make their way back inside, I’m emotionally wrung out and no further forward. With a blanket under my head and one wrapped tightly around me, I drift off into a dreamless sleep, vowing to try harder to fit in tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those lovely people who have left kudos. I'm so happy you're enjoying this :)


	8. Chapter 8

Beth and Maggie look up at me in shock when I join them at their table for breakfast. Awkwardly I offer a timid smile, which they quickly reciprocate.

“So as I was saying,” Maggie clears her throat, “I’ll ask but don’t get your hopes up.”

Beth sits up straighter. “Just once would be nice, I know I have my job to do—“

“It’s okay Beth, I understand.”

I have no idea what they’re talking about and I have little desire to find out. Sitting with them is a big enough step for me right now.

I stir the contents of my bowl with lack luster. I don’t want to eat; the knot in my stomach is making it uncomfortable every time I swallow a mouthful but I’m aware of the eyes watching me so I force it down. 

“Did you sleep better on the roof?” Beth asks quietly, her huge doe eyes darting nervously between her breakfast and me.

Uncomfortably, I shift in my seat to face the two girls. 

_You can do this_ , I tell myself, not really believing it. Once upon a time I would have sat chatting easily with the two of them, initiating conversation was second nature back then and I’d been chatty and friendly but not now. Now it was hard enough meeting their eyes let alone making small talk over breakfast.

“I did thanks.” I mumble. “I sleep better out in the open, guess I’m just used to it.”

Beth nods and grins where as Maggie just looks at me. I can’t meet her gaze, it’s loaded with sympathy and understanding and it leaves me feeling raw and exposed.

“Well you’ve got some color back so it must have done ya some good. “ Beth chirps, her enthusiasm unaffected by my introvert behavior.

“Red, nice to see you.” Rick smiles as he passes by on his way out.

God, this is torture.

Shoveling the rest of my food down my throat, I nod to Beth and Maggie and take my leave. I want to head straight back to the roof and hide, instead I wash my bowl and head outside. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do today, no one has said anything to me, so I head down to the fence to survey the rotting dead. 

Clearing duty hasn’t started yet thankfully and I’m gifted with the opportunity to take down some walkers alone without the pressure to socialize. Walking to the fence I count twenty-three of them. They’re nicely spread out without any crowding by the gate.

Up in the tower I spot Sasha and call her down. 

“I need to go out, can you shut the gate behind me?” I ask as she emerges from the structure. She gapes at me confusion written all over her face.

I try again. “I am going out, would you please close the gate behind me?”

“Ah, sure. Where are you going?”

I lead the way to the exit, the habitual burn in my muscles as I anticipate what’s coming.

“Nowhere.” Pulling the rope attached to the gate, I dart out, hurrying towards the trees. Assessing the situation it’s clear that the best plan of attack is to sweep from the right side of the building to the left, clearing as I go. In order to do this I need to stay undetected until I reach the prison.

Under the protection of the trees I step lighter. My senses are awake and I feel alive. Inside the fences I lose this edge, without the imminent threat of danger I fall into my thoughts too easily. Outside the compound is a whole other story. Here I have to stay alert, keep present and act fast if I want to stay alive. Adrenaline surges through my veins and I break into a jog. Running carefully I spot a walker ahead of me. With my blade in my hand I dart forward and cut it down. It hadn’t even known I was there.  
Soon I’m by the prison. Inhaling deep, I fill my lungs and empty my mind. This is what it is to be alive.

Gripping my blades loosely in each hand I begin the cull. Staying light on my feet and moving quickly I glide the knives through the dead, their razor-sharp edges cutting through the walkers with ease. Breathing deep I listen to the sound of the music in my mind, matching my steps and turns with the fall and swell of the instruments only I can hear. The song, ingrained in my memories, plays whenever I use the knives, and all at once I’m no longer in a field decimating the rotting dead but back in my studio, practicing with my teacher using bamboo replicas. I see his lips mouth the words along with the song as my iPod plays it from the back of the room. A flick of the wrist and the walker posing as my instructor drops lifelessly to the ground.

I’ve made it to the gate. I’m halfway around and over two thirds of the way through the walkers. By now, the others have heard the commotion and are beginning to group up. Thankfully they haven’t yet congregated into one large cluster so I push on. I can’t stop. I won’t stop until the last has been put down. Somewhere in the back of my mind I register that there were once people, people who had lives and families, people who deserved more than being left to wander the world in their rotting corpses. They deserved freedom. They deserved to rest in peace.

I’m dripping with sweat and panting when I finish but whilst my body might be tired my spirit is soaring. The buzz from the release of using my trained muscles is a high like none other and I remember now why. Why I’ve continued on for so long alone, why I refuse to lie down and die. I’m alive and that is a privilege not to be wasted.

Strolling back to the gate I clean off my blades, twirling them in sun and watching as the metal blurs from the speed of the movement. I don’t stop admiring them until Sasha rushes out to greet me.

“Are you kidding me? You’re like some kind of ninja!” She laughs.

Sheathing my knives, I meet her with a smile, a genuine gods honest smile that I can’t hold back. “I trained for a long time to be able to do that.” 

“Well you certainly put on a show.” 

We close the gate and she gestures up to the exercise yard where I see Rick, Maggie, Carol and a bunch of kids watching us.

“Shit.” 

“What’s the problem?” We’ve reached the tower again and Sasha pauses by the door, her hands gripping the rifle strap slung over her shoulder.

“Nothing.” I sigh and she turns to head in. “Thanks for the help.”

I catch her hand waving before the door closes and she’s swallowed by the structure once more.

Pursing my lips I brace myself as I approach the group at the top of the slope. I don’t know how they’ll feel about my actions, especially given that they don’t particularly know me. My worries however are misplaced.

“You just took out all those walkers.” Maggie says slowly, as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seen.

I owe them an explanation so I search out Carol and speak directly to her, trying my best to ignore the faces surrounding us.

“I sometimes need to…” My sticky hand meets my forehead and I rub at the pain building inside my head. The words are there but frustratingly I can’t seem to speak them. “It’s my way of …” I look down at myself. My clothes are soaked dark red and my hands and arms splattered with gore. 

“You have a talent with them knives.” Rick drawls and I blush.

“You weren’t meant to see that.” I confess.

“And you’re not afraid.”

I shake my head. “The dead don’t scare me, it’s the living I’m terrified of.”

He smiles. “Well for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re on our side.” He pats the top of my arm on his way past. He has his gloves in his hands again and I don’t need to ask to know he’s off to tend to his vegetable garden.

“Wait ‘till ya meet Michonne.” Maggie laughs. “You two are gonna get along like a house on fire.”

“Who’s Michonne?”

Maggie walks backwards away from me. “Find me later and I’ll tell ya all about her.” She calls. 

As I watch her disappear I can’t ignore the change in Rick and Maggie’s attitudes towards me. Maybe it’s the buzz from the exercise but I would swear they were less stand offish with me.

“You’re a mess, Red.” 

I don’t know if Carol is referring to my clothes or my state of mind and this makes me chuckle. “Yeah, in every way possible.” I joke.

She rolls her eyes but a quirk of her mouth reveals her amusement. “Go clean up, you still have the other set of clothes?”

“Yes, in my bag.”

Daryl rounds the corner and falters in his stride as looks at me. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second but his shock is soon replaced with disgust. “What in the hell happen—“ He trails off as his eyes scan the multiple bodies outside. “Ne’er mind.”

“You’re going to be the talk of the prison now you know.” Carol informs me.

“Like I wasn’t already?”

She laughs. “Fair point.”

Daryl curls his lip as he leans over and sniffs me. “I ain’t takin’ ya anywhere smellin’ like that.”

“Why not? I’ll bet it’d keep the walkers at bay.” Carol offers, her grin lighting up her striking eyes.

“We’re going somewhere?”

Daryl shakes his head. “Nah, not unless ya clean up, ain’t smelt nothin’ that bad since we cleared the tombs.”

I raise a brow and fold my arms over my chest. “I seriously doubt that.”

“Already told ya Red, ain’t no liar.”

He smirks and for a second my heart stops. It’s one thing for Carol to be comfortable enough to crack jokes with me but the way Daryl is acting is throwing me for a loop.

First Maggie and Rick, and now Daryl. So much for baby steps in trying to fit in with these people, I’m in at the deep end but so far my head is still above water.

“Go clean your self up. Ma an’ you ‘re heading back to the strip mall, see if there’s anything left.”

“Just the two of us?” 

“Yeah, ya got a problem with that?”

Unfolding my arms I meet his deathly glare without cringing away. He’s lost all humor, replacing it with the aggression I’m used to. A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth and I lick my lips trying to disguise it. I’m beginning to figure him out, little by little. 

“Not in the slightest.” And it’s true. The more time I spend with Daryl, the happier I am to be around him.

My answer seems to confuse him. He fiddles with his fingerless gloves and shrugs. “Alright, well, ya get five minutes then I’m leavin’ without ya.”

I don’t bother to reply, it will only waste time and I’m itching to get back out there, despite the looming threat of running into whoever left that car in the road.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later I’m clean and changed, and sitting on the back of Daryl’s bike heading out onto the open road. Tearing down the asphalt, I get the same sense of euphoria as I did the first time I was on the bike. It’s a strange sensation to move through the world at this speed without the metal casing of a car or truck or bus around you. There’s a unique sense of freedom and it for a while everything feels right. Leaning forward, I press softly against Daryl’s back and raise my voice above the wind. “Can we go faster?”

He shrugs and turns his head to towards me whilst keeping his eye on the road. “Hold on tight, sunshine.” He calls before pulling back the clutch, kicking it up a gear and twisting the throttle back.

The momentum of the bike knocks me back but I regain my balance quickly. Gripping tightly with my left hand, I let go with my right and hold it out to the side. The wind resistance pushes against me fighting for dominance and it almost feels like I’m flying. A smile creeps onto my face and before long it’s grown into a full laugh. I’m free and I’m happy. 

In my bliss, I’ve leaned forward to counter the drag on my arm and am pressed lightly against my driver again. I don’t know if he hears or feels my joy but pretty soon he’s laughing along with me. 

He spends the rest of the journey pushing the bike and his skills whilst I enjoy the ride. I’m even relaxed enough to wrap an arm around his waist as he takes a couple of sharp corners. To his credit he handles the machine effortlessly and strangely doesn’t react when I touch him. I don’t know if that means he’s getting used to me but I make sure to release him as soon as we’re clear and the bike is righted, I don’t know him well enough to comfortably hold onto him for the full journey.

As the familiar sight of the storefronts and parking lot come into view, Daryl slows down. He drives the full length of the mall and we search for any signs of life, thankfully we find nothing. As soon as the bike is parked, Daryl is on high alert and all the tension returns to his posture.  
“Stay close.”

His warning comes too late; I’ve already wandered down to the store we fled.

“Damnit, Red.” He huffs, jogging to join me.

“What? There’s no one here, well, except maybe her.” I point to the walker trapped in the car I’d spotted yesterday. “Don’t think we’ll see much trouble from her, do you?”

Daryl stares at me. From the face he’s puling he’s trying to figure something out.

“What?” I ask. With my knife handle, I bang the half open shutters loudly.

“Y’seem different.” Daryl says, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.

I digest his observation. He’s right. I feel different. I’m definitely relaxing into this strange companionship I’ve formed with him and Carol.

“I’m starting to trust you.” I reply. 

“Only startin’?”

We’ve waited long enough. If there was anything inside it would have shown itself by now. 

Stepping into the gloomy building I pause to allow my eyes to adjust. “There are different levels of trust, Daryl. I trust you with my physical safety, I know you’d put yourself in front of me if you thought it would save me, but some things, the important stuff, you have to earn trust for that.” I study the shelves; they’re untouched and stacked with goodies, far more than we can carry back on Daryl’s bike. Picking up some canned beans I look over my shoulder at my companion. I fully expected him to be raiding the stock but he’s not. He’s motionless and staring at me.

He tilts his head and a lock of dark hair obscures his eyes. “Why ya so closed off at the prison?”

“I’m not comfortable around large groups of people.” I return to examining the shelves.

“Ya not like the other’s, ya different.”

I laugh sardonically. “Yeah, I already told you more than once, I’m broken.”

“Nah, there’s more to it than that. Ya honest enough but ya keep things close, like yer scared of people finding out too much”

He’s cutting too close to the bone. It’s time to shut him down. “So what, you’re a psychiatrist now? You’re going to tell me I have daddy and trust issues ‘cos that’s no secret.”

I swallow down the painful ball of anger and fear and march away desperately needing distance between us.

At the back of the store I stumble across a small library of books. Running my finger along the spines I pluck a few from the shelves and jam them into my bag. A little further round I spot a full-length mirror. I’m almost tempted to see what I look like now but what’s the point? Vanity is not a luxury afforded in the new world.

With a heavy sigh, I scour the darkness looking for Daryl finally finding him in the children’s section pushing baby clothes into a bag.

“You should go back and get a car, there’s too much here to leave.”

His eyes zero in on mine, and he nods. Putting the bag down he points to where mine is slung over my shoulder.

“Might as well leave it here, we’ll pick it up when we come back.”

“What? No, I meant you go, I’ll stay. Someone has to guard the goodies.” I hold out my hands and circle around. “There’s no way I’m leaving this place empty handed again.”

“It’ll be right for a while yet. Ain’t no one been through since yesterday—“

“Jesus Christ, Daryl, no!” The anger I tried to quell is resurfacing and I can’t help but direct it at him. “A haul like this won’t go unnoticed for long, we have to act fast. Stop wasting time and go get a car.”

“Dumb bitch!” He spits, his patience worn thin. “An what of the people who planted that car? Ain’t you got a workin’ brain in that broken head a yours? They could be watchin’ right now. Waitin’ to see what we do.” He paces back and forth, his finger hovering over the trigger of his crossbow.

“All the more reason for one of us to stay! I’m not giving this up without a fight; you know how much they need this back at the prison. I’m not just gonna fucking run away and let some other group take what’s not theirs!”

“An how ya gonna protect it when ya too scared to kill, huh?”

It’s a low blow and for a moment I’m speechless until the red mist descends.

“Don’t mistake my compassion for weakness you emotionally stunted, redneck prick. Just because I refused to do their dirty work doesn’t mean I’m afraid to kill. Why don’t you drag your country lovin’ ass over here and I’ll show you just how happy I can be ripping the life outa someone!”

“Fine! Have it your way, stay here an die, why the fuck should I save your ass again anyways?”

He pushes over a stand holding an array of makeup and storms out the store. I want to scream insults at him but catch myself before I do anything too stupid. He’s right, we don’t know who’s nearby and I’d rather avoid a confrontation if I can. Slowly I make it to the doorway, making sure I leave plenty of time for him to depart. From my vantage point I watch as his bike roars past and seeing an opportunity to get in the last word I flip him off with a sweet smile. I know he’s sees me but he doesn’t react. Only when his bike has disappeared out of view, do I allow my arm to drop.

“Ass.” I mutter but I’m not sure if I’m talking about him or me. I’m fuming with Daryl but also myself for giving him exactly what he wanted – a reaction. Rolling my eyes at the pettiness, I’m about to haul the shutters down when my eyes rest on an obvious solution. Cursing loudly, I allow a humorless chuckle to echo through the empty parking lot. A few feet away an inconspicuous red beat up Ford sits taunting me. Red, it just had to be.

I’m already at the car when the throaty grumble of an engine draws my eyes to the road. The noise is familiar but I rest my hand over my throwing knife, waiting for the source of the sound to appear. Like a mirage, Daryl shimmers into existence framed by the heavy grey clouds threatening to open up. It’s a sight to behold. Not wanting to be caught staring I grab the handle of the Ford and pull. To my delight it opens. Sliding into the divers seat, I search the usual spots where people hide their keys praying for a small miracle. It doesn’t happen though and I’m forced to pull open the wiring compartment.

“Know what ya doin’?” Daryl’s question could easily be a dig but I know it’s not. The way he’s joined me by the car and his body language tells me he’s pissed as all hell but he won’t let it get in the way of getting our loot back. He’s not trying to antagonize me.

“Not really.” It hurts to admit but what choice do I have? I want to get moving before someone else finds this treasure trove. Biting my bottom lip, I exit the car and stand aside to let Daryl do his thing. Slowly, I circle on the spot, checking the vicinity for any changes. The area is silent and calm and I’m reassured that we’re still alone.

“C’mon ya son-of-a—“

The engine coughs and splutters, chugging inch by inch towards life. Inside Daryl is sprawled on the seat, his torso wedged awkwardly under the steering column, his leg bouncing impatiently. As the stuttering subsides, the car finds its rhythm until finally it’s ticking over nicely and Daryl emerges with a triumphant sparkle in his eyes.

A smile is plastered across my face and momentarily our stupid argument is forgotten. 

“Reverse it back to the door, I’ll start grabbing what I can.” Running giddily into the store, I start with the blankets and sheets. Filling my arms I stack them as high as I can manage and stagger to the entrance to se the car ready and waiting. We work quickly and quietly, only speaking when we absolutely have to. As I empty shelf after shelf, I find my earlier anger dissipating, unfortunately it’s replacement is wearing heavy on my shoulders as I sink under the pressure of my old friend, remorse. Whilst Daryl doesn’t have the best communication skills, he was only trying to look out for me. Sure the name-calling hadn’t been the best way to convince me to leave, but something told me gentle persuasion was not in his nature. I know what I have to do but I wait for the last possible moment. When the car is stuffed full, I stand by the door and eye Daryl cautiously. He’s seated on his bike, ready to leave.

“Daryl?”

His body is rigidly locked into place as he slides his glare over to me.

“You found a nerve and you pressed it damn hard but I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Having said my piece, I flee into the safety of the car, slamming the door behind me to protect me from any retribution. I know I can avoid him for the rest of the day if not longer and I’m glad, it gives me time to process what happened without his constant scrutiny. Pulling out onto the road, the first fat droplets of rain hit the windshield. Moments later the heavens open and I can’t help the tiny smirk that I wear as I watch Daryl get drenched. 

“Maybe this will cool his temper,” I chuckle to the empty car.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mental abuse.

Due to the weather it takes us much longer to get back to the prison and I’m glad as it eats away at the time. The less I have to dodge Daryl the happier I’ll be. I don’t think I’ll be forgiven anytime soon after what I said and I don’t want to answer any questions about why his words affected me so bad. I watch him carefully as we drive. Even from a distance I can tell he’s tense. Maybe it’s because of me or perhaps he’s just concentrating hard given the condition of the greasy roads, either way, it’s obviously not a relaxing journey for him.

We arrive safely back at the prison, which is deserted save for Maggie. Framed against the stormy sky, the place looks ominous and a foreboding shudder jerks my body. It’s only as we’re passing through the gates that I realize I’ll have to sleep inside tonight because there’s no shelter on the roof. Darkness settles over my soul and for a brief moment I consider turning the car around for a few more hours of freedom. Instead, I suck it up and trail behind the bike up to the main building.

We come to a halt by the rest of the cars and Daryl dismounts. His hair is plastered to his head and his face is red from the unforgiving wind and rain. He makes straight for the prison, not even bothering to look at me as he passes.  
Letting out the breath I’d been holding I decide to relieve Maggie on watch. At least in the tower I don’t feel quite as caged in. Thankfully, Maggie is more than happy to swap chores, the excitement of unloading the car and delving through what we’ve brought back adding to her eagerness.

In the solitude of the grey tower, surrounded by the pouring rain I think about what Daryl said and why it got under my skin. I know he’s working me out and that terrifies me. No one alive should know me well enough to make me this jittery and yet, Daryl makes my heart speed whenever he looks at me. He sees too much. Keeping my eyes away from the prison I try hard to forget the days events and enjoy my freedom whilst I can before I’m caged in my cell. Hours pass and as early evening approaches, a large guy with a friendly face comes to take over sentry duty. He introduces himself as Tyreese and I offer him my name along with an uncomfortable half-shrug half-smile combination

“Well, they’re having a feast inside with what you guys brought back so why don’t you go an’ join them. Seems only fair, we wouldn’t have any of it if it weren’t for you and Daryl.” He chuckles. “It’s certainly improved the mood of the place.”

The thought of stepping into a jubilant crowd fills me with absolute dread, but I fake a smile and nod, trying hard to look enthusiastic. “Sounds great, I’ll go see.” I lie, using it as an excuse to leave. Dashing through the exercise yard I keep my head down. The rain has not let up any and puddles are forming in the uneven concrete. Across the yard I reach for the door only for it to swing open wide, taking me off guard. I stumble back and land in one of the smaller puddles, cursing as the water splashes up my denim clad leg. In the doorway I’m greeted by the very person I don’t want to see. Daryl. His blue eyes look me up and down and his lips press into a flat line.

“Come with me.” He says lowly, backing into the corridor to let me in.

I hesitate. I don’t want another argument with him but I can’t see a way out. If I refuse we’ll only end up butting heads again. With a labored sigh I relent and do as he asks. Creeping through the gloomy corridors mutely, I push away the growing claustrophobia. In the grey rainy light struggling to illuminate the hallways, they seem smaller and completely joyless. Daryl stiffly glances over his shoulder, making sure I’m following but he refuses to meet my gaze. I want to ask where we’re going but before long it dawns on me the direction we’re heading. Sure enough we make our way through the corridors and up the stairs, coming to stop at the roof. Staring out of the already open door, I can’t help wondering if he plans on locking me out there as revenge for what I said.

“This way.”

He steps out and around the door, and with my curiosity burning I follow. What I see takes my breath away. Behind the door is a large tent like structure, with three protective sides, a canvas floor and a large overhanging porch. It looks out over the front of the prison offering panoramic views as well as shelter from the elements. Inside it my bag is propped by a cot on which there are blankets and a pillow. 

It takes a while for what I’m seeing to fully register and when it does I’m dumbstruck. Standing in the pouring rain, slack jawed and dripping wet I can’t believe what I’m looking at. My heart expands, pushing against my ribcage and I have to inhale deeply to make room for the swell of emotion soaking through me along with the rain. This is too much. The thoughtfulness of this gesture, the empathy he’s showing, slams into me, forcing the air from my lungs. Tears well in my eyes and I try hard to swallow against the tightness in my throat. This wasn’t something he had to do. This wasn’t like when he brought me here to keep a clear conscience, this was a gift and maybe, maybe even forgiveness.

“Ya getting wet.”

He’s chewing on his thumbnail, a sure sign of how uncomfortable he feels but I can’t move or answer him. He’s literally left me speechless and rooted to the spot. Given the years of misery and heartache I’d lost faith that selflessness and pure kindness still existed, but here it was, in all its red neck glory.

“Ya don’t like it?”

I whirl to face him just in time to catch the hurt flashing in his eyes.

“No.” I whisper, letting him see the tears as they finally fall. “You’re wrong. I … It’s perfect.” I hate that he’s seeing me cry, seeing me vulnerable and weak, but he’s earned the privilege. At this moment I’d rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him if he needed me to. “Daryl, I don’t know what to say. After today, what I said, I—“

“Wasn’t just you. We both said stuff.”

I blink slowly, unable to fully comprehend the situation. “You did all this?”

He chews his nail viciously. “Mhmm.”

“For me?”

“Yeah.”

I suck in my bottom lip and turn away to walk into the tent. I can stand easily, the height of it matching the height of the doorway roof. I take it all in from the cot to the struts supporting the canvas roof. It’s simply unbelievable. In my peripheral vision I see Daryl leaving and panic. He can’t go until he understands exactly what he’s done.

“Wait! Please, come back.”

He hesitates by the door, one hand clamped on the metal the other still wedged between his teeth.

“Please.”

He nods, acquiescing without argument and slowly walks back to join me in the shelter.

“Why?” There’s so much I want to say, like how his actions speak louder than the words he won’t say, and how sorry I am that I was such a bitch, but the question tumbles out pushing ahead of every thing else. 

He shrugs, his blue eyes looking to the floor.

“Daryl…”

“’Cos I said things I shouldn’ta. I was wrong.”

His eyes flicker to mine and I stare into them, trying to convey all the emotions he’s unleashed in me.

“You got under my skin…” I begin, deciding that the only way to explain and thank him is by opening up. Knowing that this will be a long conversation, I drop to the floor and cross my legs. “You keep getting under it because you see straight through me in a way no one else ever has. It’s unnerving, especially when I try so hard to keep people out, but you … you seem to know me without knowing me and I hate that.”

“Why ya tellin’ me this?” 

“Because. I owe it to you. Because … “ It’s been a day of unprecedented behavior so I decide to continue with the firsts and open up to the hunter, giving him something I never thought possible. “Because I trust you. You’ve earned it.”

He shakes his head. “You don’ owe me nothin’”

“I owe you everything.”

For a second he looks like he’s about to run so I talk fast.

“I started to train with my knives because I’ve always had issues and it was a way of, I don’t know, getting it all out and learning to control the fear and fury. My father was not a good man,” I sigh, “he was never physical in his abuse but he took from my mother and I in every other way. I grew up believing that I was nothing, that I was worse than nothing, I was an imposition, an obligation, a burden. The only thing he ever taught me was that nothing comes for free and debts are to be paid, no matter what. He made me believe I wasn’t worthy of love. I used to think that there was something wrong with me because he didn’t treat his daughter the same way my friends’ dads did. He stripped me of everything without ever laying a hand on me, he twisted my mind, made me believe that it was me, not him, that I was…” 

“Don’t.”

I catch his gaze. “I have to. I’m paying off my debt.”

“Red, ya owe me nothin’”

“If that’s true, then I’m worth nothing because you’ve saved me twice now, the first time in the woods, and today with this. To me that means I owe you. If I owe you nothing then,” I hold my hands out to the sides and look up, “am I worthless to you too?” I whisper, caught in the shadow of my father’s memory. In that moment I’m transported back to my eleven-year-old self, my heart splitting open as I recall the way my father used to look at me.

Daryl is searching the rain, struggling to find the right answer. He picks at his fingers and chews on his lip and I realize I’ve put him in an awful situation.

“Just let me pay off the debt.”

“Ya ain’t worthless and you don’ owe me nothing.” He declares striding out of the tent.

“Told you I was broken.” I call after him. “At least now you might be able to understand why.”

In a breath he’s back in the tent glaring down at me. “There ain’t nothin’ wrong with you, woman. Just ‘cos ya don’t jabber non-stop it don’t mean yer broken. An ya not likin’ bein’ caged in ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of. Ya careful too, ya know when t’ fight an’ when t’ step down, ya know yer limits, in my book that makes ya smart, smarter than most a the people here.” He sniffs. “Ya not broken an ya don’t owe me nothin’. Ya paid any debt ya mighta had three times over already so let it be.”  
His face is red and his fists are clenched as he pants, his anger flowing freely through his veins. I’m stunned. He’s never said so much to me and I notice that the more worked up he gets the more pronounced his southern accent becomes. It’s clear that he’s finished and whilst I have more I want to tell him, I decide to put him out of his misery and end this emotionally charged, frank exchange.

“So what do I have to do for you then?” He opens his mouth to speak but I don’t give him the chance. “I mean, you were rude to me, you called me a dumb bitch so yeah, I think this about makes up for it, but me, hell, if I recall rightly what I said was way worse … Guess that means I have to, what, find you a Harley?”

The murderous rage seeps out of his face and I’m elated when he manages to crack the smallest of smiles.

“Might about do it.” He mumbles.

“Looks like I’m going scouting tomorrow then.” I laugh, making a mental note to check as many garages as possible when ever I’m out.

“Looks like it.” He raises his chin. “Ya eaten?”

“Just humble pie.” I reluctantly admit, fearing he’s going to insist I head down into the lions den for food.

He smirks. “Here. Save ya having to face the hordes of fans ya collected.” He tosses me a protein bar.

“Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah, you’re quite the celebrity down there.” He points to the floor. “Yer little show this morning an comin’ home with all that loot has made ya queen of the castle.”

“Fuck.”

Again he smirks. 

“You wipe that look off your face before I cut it off, Dixon.”

The crossbow is dropped noisily at my feet and he holds his hands up in mock surrender but I can’t enjoy his joke. My stomach has dropped to my boots. I only ever wanted to blend into the background but if what Daryl says is true it’s going to be a thousand times more difficult for me to live here.

“Hey.” I meet his gaze when he kicks my boot. “Ya’ll be alright. Won’t be long b’fore someone new comes along an’ ya’ll be forgotten.”

I hope to god he’s right. “So now I’m looking for people as well as the bike.” I say glumly.

“Nah,” Daryl lands heavily next to me and rests his elbows on his knees, “ _we’re_ lookin’,” he nudges me with his elbow, “y'ain’t alone no more, Red.”

The daylight is fading fast with the help of the weather but even in my wet clothes I no longer feel the chill. It could be because of the canvas surrounding us but it’s most likely because of Daryl’s body heat next to me.

“You’re not so bad, all things considered.” I say softly.

Daryl huffs in amusement. “Stop.”

I smile to myself, feeling the shift in our relationship. We’re no longer strangers and although I know nothing of his history, I’m beginning to get to know the man behind the crossbow. He’s good at keeping it covered but there’s no denying it now, Daryl Dixon has a heart of gold. Glancing sideways at him, I study his face. He knows I’m looking but instead of his customary scowl he quirks a brow and meets my eyes.

“Ya should do that more often.” He drawls.

“What?”

He squints back at the rain. “Smile.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’m not the only one.”

I’m genuinely shocked when he lowers his face and chuckles. “P’haps.” He agrees, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he tries his best to hide behind his curtain of hair.

Tearing open the bar he gave me, I chew thoughtfully, wondering if what is happening between us constituted the beginnings of a friendship. Swallowing the foul tasting food, I lean my head back against the canvassed wall behind me and close my eyes. Once again, I’m seeing out the day with a companion by my side but more so, someone I don’t have to protect myself from. I meant what I’d said to him, after his actions I really do trust him, he’s proved himself to me and I think I did the right thing, letting him in.

I’m not alone anymore.


	10. Chapter 10

The heavy gun felt all kinds of wrong in my grasp as Sasha attempted to teach me how to shoot. The handle curves the wrong way, the weight is just awkward and no matter how hard I try, I simply can’t master the skill of shooting a target.

I can’t see him, but I know in my gut that Daryl is somewhere close by, laughing at my pathetic attempt to shoot the cross painted on an old palette. The thought of his infuriating smirk only serves to distract me further.

As yet another round of bullets fail to hit the wood, I drop the gun and growl in frustration. This is pointless, I don’t need to shoot, my reflexes and knives have seen me this far, I’m sure they’ll carry me the rest of the way. My fingers find my throwing knives and in flash I embed all three in the center of the black X that is taunting me.

“God damn it!” I yell, cursing my inability to shoot. In a fit worthy of any toddler, I grit my teeth and flip off the sun, the heat from which is bearing down, cooking me alive in the open yard. I’m hot, uncomfortable and beyond frustrated.

“You’ll get there,” Sasha says for the thirtieth time. 

Tossing her a withering glare, I ignore the gun on the ground and stride forward to collect my preferred weapons. Grunting, I work them free and hold them up for inspection.

From where he’s been leaning against the fence, watching my spectacular failings Rick calls out, “Have ya thought about trying a rifle? The scope might help ya settle into the shot a little better.”

“I’m just not cut out for guns.” I sigh.

“That’s what I used to think too,” Sasha offers, “but I got it eventually. Besides, a gun’s better than a shovel.” 

I’m about to answer when there’s a commotion down by the gate. We move to get a better view just as a horse and rider canter through the entrance. They come to a stop and I see that it’s a woman in the saddle 

“Michonne!” Rick breathes, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he takes off in a gentle jog towards the stranger.

Michonne. I’d heard that name uttered around the prison a few times now. First from Maggie and then Carl. All I knew for sure about the enigmatic stranger was that she came and went like the passing of the seasons, relentless and not a force to reckon with. 

“I think I’m done for the day.” I tell Sasha, keen to end my humiliation and avoid meeting Michonne.

“We’ll try again tomorrow, maybe with a rifle, see how you get on with that?”

I shake my head and shrug. “Whatever.” I mutter, completely defeated.

Sasha lays a hand on my shoulder and smiles in sympathy before heading back to the tower.

“C’mon, Red,” Daryl materializes behind me and nudges me playfully as he crosses his bare arms over his chest. “Ya getting’ closer to the target, as long as the walkers stay still y—“

”Shut it Dixon, I’m not above maiming y’know.”

He releases a short laugh. “Ain’t scared of the likes a you. I can put ya on yer ass if I have to.”

Ignoring him, I gesture with my chin to the woman who rode in moments ago, now chatting with Rick. “Wanna tell me about her?”

“She’s good people, ya don’t need ta fret.” He glances at me, shading his eyes with his hand. “Think you might actually like her.”

It’s a dig but it’s good-natured. Slapping the back of my hand against his chest, I glower at his humor. “You’re an ass, Daryl.”

“Yes ma’am.” He smirks.

It’s been almost a week since Daryl and I brought back the supplies and in that time I’d tried and failed to avoid the rest of the people living here. He’d thankfully been right though, and as soon as he found the latest pair of survivors the attention had moved away from me. I was also learning whom I was comfortable around. Sasha, Maggie and Carol were three such individuals I was able to spend time with, without feeling the need to run for the hills. Rick and Hershel came a close second, both men seeming to understand my need for distance, which I was grateful for.

Beth still unnerved me. The way she laid her soul bare for anyone to see was a trait I envied but couldn’t understand. To leave yourself so exposed just didn’t make sense. That said, I did enjoy limited interactions with her, especially when Judith was involved. 

But top of the pile by far was the man stood next to me. He instinctively knew where my head was at any given moment and instead of trying to alter my mood he would simply respect it. I think that’s the thing I liked most about him. He wasn’t trying to change me, he simply accepted me.

“Wait,” I squint against the sun, “she has a katana?” I spy the blade strapped to her back. 

Daryl puts his hand in the middle of my shoulder blades and pushes gently, encouraging me to walk forward. He wants me to meet her but I’m less than keen.

“C’mon, it’s gonna happen sooner or later.”

“Later is fine by me.”

“Stop bein’ so stubborn.”

At the yard gate we come face to face with Rick and Michonne and I’m instantly struck by her enchanting, large, dark eyes. They pull me in and I know I’m staring but even when they turn hard, I can’t look away. She’s a predator, that much is clear, but Daryl had said she was good and I trusted him.

“Michonne this is Red, Red, Michone.” Rick waves his hand between us.

She dips her head slowly acknowledging me. Pursing my lips, I reciprocate the movement. After a while it becomes obvious that neither of us will break the silence so Daryl steps forward.

“Any sign?” 

Michonne shakes her head and smiles a hello at him. “No but I’ll keep looking.”

Rick sighs like it’s a conversation he’s head a million times before. “Come see Judith and Carl, they’ll be so happy you’re back.”

She beams at the mention of their names and her whole face changes with the mega watt grin. “I’d like that.” 

“I can think of a few others who’ll be happy to have you back too.” Rick adds.

The three of them fall into easy strides alongside one another as they head into the prison. Hanging back I wait for half a second before turning in the opposite direction. It’s unsettling how easily she fits in with the group despite having not been around for the whole time I’ve been here. It isn’t until I reach the outer fence that I realize I’m jealous. I want to have the freedom to come and go as she does and still be welcomed back with open arms.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I laugh at the absurdity of my thoughts. No, I’m not pissed at Michonne; I’m pissed because despite three full days of gun practice, I’m still as bad as ever. 

Absently, I step closer to the fence, withdraw a long blade and stab a walker through the eye. There’s a larger group closer to the prison but there are at least four people up there clearing them so I choose to go the other way. There are a few groaning walkers along my route and I tell myself that I’m only pulling away from socialising to help keep the walker numbers down but it’s a blatant lie that’s revealed as soon as the dead have been dealt with.

Looking out across the water next to the trees I think of how far I’ve come this past week. Logically I know I’m doing damn well to have suppressed my anxiety as much as I have but I can’t help the bitter taste that comes when I think of meeting even more new people.

Is this what it’s going to be like now? How many more people use the prison as a stop off point between trips to god knows where? How many others do I have to try and trust?

I shake my head. I’m being pissy and it’s not because of Michonne. I’m tired and I’m cranky and yeah, I’m sulking because I can’t master firing a damn gun even though Carl who is no more than fourteen can do it just fine.

Twirling the blade in my hand, it occurs to me that I haven’t had the chance to use it properly for the three days I’ve been with Sasha. Sadly, the herd of walkers outside is too big for me to tackle but I’d bet my last dollar there are plenty more roaming the nearby roads and towns. Besides, I still have a Harley to find.

As soon as the idea flits into my brain, I’m on the move again. It takes no time at all for me to run back to the prison and grab a set of car keys.

“Where you heading?” Sasha calls, peering over the barrier of the tower.

“Nowhere special, just going to head west and see what I can find.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you told—“

I cut her off with a wave of my hand. “If it’s okay for Daryl and Michonne to go out alone then it’s fine for me.”

“Alright, I’m not gonna stop you, just be careful and try and get back before sundown.”

I salute her quickly, my mood rapidly improving with every step closer to the car. Sliding behind the wheel of the red Ford I’d taken from the strip mall, I start it and head down to the gate. Thankfully Tyreese is one step ahead and lets me out with a cheerful wave.

And then I’m free. The open road calls to me and I press my foot down on the gas. The car accelerates and as the leaves are kicked up behind me, I let out a howl of delight. 

 

*

 

The first town I come upon is one we’ve been to before. Pulling over, I wait for the noise of the engine to entice any undead out into the open, but none come. Before me, laid out in easy to navigate rows, the homes of people long forgotten wait for inhabitants that won’t ever return.

It’s heartbreaking to think about so I steer my thoughts down a different avenue. Coming to the first house, I tap the garage door and listen. When I’m sure it’s clear, I try the handle, thrilled when it opens.

Pushing the door up, I stare into an empty garage. It’s a bust. Never mind, there are still plenty more to try. I know that the odds of finding anything decent are slim to none but I continue in my search for the rest of the afternoon, collecting a few bits along the way. 

As the light starts to change I turn to head back to the car, disappointed with my lot. I’d only encountered five walkers the whole time I’ve been here and as for scavenging -- a bottle of whiskey, some cigarettes, a box of ammo and three hunting knives are the only decent things I‘ve found. I’d started out with just the garages in mind but quickly moved on to checking the houses too. Unfortunately for me most had been ransacked, either by the owners in their hurry to leave or by survivors like me.

Rounding the corner to the street I’m parked on, I catch sight of two men and dive into the nearest open garage. There’s a ride-on mower under a cover at the back, and just enough space for me to squeeze behind so I drop in noiselessly and wait. 

My heart thumps uncomfortably in my chest, pushing adrenaline through my system and my muscles tense, ready to fight or run, or maybe both.

I hear them long before I see them, their conversation carrying through the empty street.

“Nope, they definitely weren’t open the last time we came through.”

“Can’t imagine they got anything good, this town’s always been a poxy waste of space.”

“Except for that blonde barmaid, the piece from Jackson’s?”

“I remember. Stuck up bitch, she got what was comin’ to her though.” A sinister laugh follows as they get closer.

I swallow hard, sure that they’ll hear the relentless thrashing of my heart as it tries to escape the cage it’s in.

“Still, be nice if she were still around. S’not like she could say no.”

Another chuckle and the hair on my arms stand on end. 

“Should we check inside the houses?”

“Nah, let’s just hit the bar.”

I can see them now as I peek around my barricade. The older of the two has stringy grey hair and a large moustache. He’s covered in grime and his clothes are ill-fitting and torn. The younger man strides next to him with a shotgun slung over his leather clad shoulder. He’s wearing black jeans and looks pretty well dressed given that it’s the end of the world. He stops and his blonde head turns to the opposite side of the street.

“I’m gonna go have a look see. Might be something in the houses.”

The older guy throws his hands in the air. “Fine but I ain’t coming with you.”

“Keep watch, you never know, whoever opened all the doors might come back. I could use a little target practice.”

I watch in despair as the younger guy crosses the street, leaving his partner to settle on the sidewalk directly outside my hiding spot. Gritting my teeth, I get as comfortable as I can without revealing myself and settle down for the wait. I could quite easily take them down but I can’t bring myself to sentence two men to death just because they give me the creeps.

 

*

 

It’s well past dark when I get to the car. The idiotic pair had taken it upon themselves to plunder the nearest houses before using the letterboxes as targets.

Starting the engine I drive away from the town at speed before slowing and killing the lights. As I pick my way along the dark highway, I’m reminded of the many times I’ve done this before and am thankful that at least this time the moon is providing enough light for me to see where I’m going.

Cranking the air-con on, I fight the urge to sleep and force myself to stay awake by singing softly. I need to stay sharp to avid stray walkers or worse, people. 

When I pull up to the familiar turning to the prison, I let out a sigh of relief. It’s only a few miles further. I don’t know what the time is, but it’s been dark for a long time and my body is begging for sleep. 

Another mile down and I’ve had enough.

Deciding that I’m close enough, I pull over. I can’t get much closer for fear of attracting the walkers and I can’t expect them to open the gate in the dead of night without being able to see exactly what’s around it. 

Wrapping my coat around me, I shut off the engine and lock the doors, tonight will be like old times, sleeping in the backseat of my car. Climbing into the back seat, I close my eyes and within minutes I fall into a fitful sleep.

The sky is a thousand shades of blue and orange when I start the engine again. I’m tired having only got a few hours sleep at most. Rubbing my eyes I shake off the nightmares that had plagued me and pull myself into the drivers seat. I’m tired and hungry, and ready for a shower. Still, I had to admit; it had been nice to get out for a while despite my near run in with dumb and dumber. 

When I finally see the prison, I smile, and slow the car. Checking the perimeter I’m happy to find that the walkers are few and far between. 

As I get closer to the gate, my eyes are drawn to a familiar bike parked on the grass to the side. A frown pulls my brows down. The sun was barely above the horizon so where was Daryl going at this time of day?

In a practiced maneuver, the gate opens and I drive through. 

“Where in the hell where ya?” Daryl is furious as he emerges by the side of me and slams his hands on the roof of the car.

I jump at his unexpected aggression and lean out of the window. “Whoa, settle down, tiger. I got caught in a garage and couldn’t get back ‘till after dark. Figured it was safer sleeping in the car than risking the gate.” 

He turns away, takes one step, then whirls back around and bangs his fists onto the bonnet leaving a sizeable dent in his wake. He’s staring at me with so much rage I can hardly think straight.

“Daryl? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

His narrowed eyes glare at me. “Get the gate.”

Confusion and anxiety roll in waves through my body and I do as he asks. Running to the rope, I manage to call out a quick ‘be safe’ before my voice is drowned out by the rumble of the bike and he’s gone.

Once I’m satisfied the gate is secure, I slide into the car and slowly finish the last leg of my journey. Daryl’s fuming face monopolizes my thoughts and I find my gaze sliding to the road out more than once as I make my way into the prison. Something had him spitting feathers and I had to find out what.

In the communal area I dump my bag on the floor and grab a bottle of water, downing it in seconds. I’d been stupid enough to leave without provisions but next time I wouldn’t be so unprepared.

“Red? Oh thank god!”

Carol’s hands clamp around my shoulders and she starts looking me over with concern in her eyes.

“Carol? What’s wrong?”

She stops, seemingly satisfied with what she sees and releases me. “What happened? Where were you?”

Biting my lip, I scan the room we’re alone. Starting at the beginning I explain everything, from my miserable attempt at shooting all the way through to spending the night in the car and finishing with Daryl’s extreme behavior.

“What’s going on? Why was Daryl so worked up?” I ask.

Carol rolls her eyes to the ceiling and rests her hands on her hips. “Maybe next time you head out, you let one of us know where you’re going, okay?”

“What? I told Sasha I was leaving; I said I was heading west. What’s the issue?”

“Sometimes,” she begins, choosing her words carefully, “people can get a little over protective. Just, for our peace of mind, don’t go alone next time.”

I throw my hands out in exasperation. “What the hell is going on here? You’re talking in riddles and if looks could kill, Daryl would be burying my body.”

“He’ll calm down and you’ll work it out, now,” she smiles brightly, the twinkle I so adore, making her blue eyes sparkle, “how ‘bout you help me with breakfast, then afterwards I’ll help you with the rifle?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible trigger for abuse

I spend the day following Carol around like a lost puppy. First it’s breakfast, then rifle 101, after which we have lunch followed by reading time in the library. By this point I’m done. She still won’t explain where Daryl went or what’s wrong with him but she doesn’t seem concerned so I try and put him from my mind. Excusing myself from the small group of adults and children I head out into the baking sun.

“Rick tells me you have skill with your blades.”

Whirling around I find Michonne in the shadows cleaning her katana.

“Some but there’s always room for improvement.” Chewing nervously on my lip I contemplate my options. I can stay and attempt to talk or I can make up an excuse and go-- Go where? My mind is drawing a complete blank.

“He also tells me you struggle with new people.”

I blink rapidly, stunned into submission that he’s told her that and she’s had the gall to say it to my face.

“I know what that’s like.” Her attention goes back to the rag in her hands. “I was alone for a long time, out there. I think…” Those mesmerizing eyes capture my gaze and I feel myself being drawn in. “I think a part of me is still out there.” She points to the trees with the blade.

“Daryl,” I find my voice though it’s strained and timid, “he said I would like you. Guess he thinks we’re alike.”

She breathes out a smile. “Yes, we talked last night about our similarities. He seems quite close to you.”

I take a moment to mull over her words. I guess she’s right, out of every one here, he’s the person I’ve spent most of my time with. I guess I could understand why an outsider would view us as close.

“I trust him.” I say. “He let’s me be.”

“So where did you go?”

“West, a town a little way along. I was trying to find something,” I smile, “I was searching for atonement.”

“Did you find it?”

“Not yet, but I will.” I’m surprised at myself and how easy Michonne is to be around. 

She slides her katana back into its protective sheath and offers me a smile. “Something tells me you’re resourceful, I don’t doubt that what ever it is, you’ll get hold of soon.”

“Here’s hoping.” I return her smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I really need to catch up on some sleep.”  
It’s only partly an excuse as I’m tired as hell, but also, I don’t want to push it. I’m pleased with our small interaction, there were no awkward silences and I didn’t feel uncomfortable around her, it’s time to quit whilst I’m ahead. Making my way to my tent, I celebrate my own personal victory with a wide smile and a promise to talk to her more the next time I see her.

On the roof, under the protection of the canvass, I stretch out on my cot. The heat is pleasant, and soon the warmth lulls me into a deep, undisturbed slumber.

 

*

 

It’s dark when I open my eyes. Disoriented and stiff I sit up and rub my hand over my face. I have no idea what time it is but it must be late as I can’t hear anything except the walkers in the distance.

Rolling my shoulders, I stretch and yawn before finding my feet. Scooping up my bag I dig around inside. I want to see if Daryl was back and find out what was wrong with him. Knowing he’s be more likely to open up to me if I used the cigarettes as an excuse to find him, I snatch them out and drop the bag on my cot.

In the walls of the prison it’s disturbingly silent. The stillness is unsettling and more than once my imagination causes me to freeze as I see something that isn’t there. I wish I had a lighter or a flashlight, or anything that would throw a little light into the intimidating darkness.

In the communal area it’s dead. Not a single person is about telling me it’s far too late to go looking for Daryl. Sighing lightly, I head outside. There’s not much else to do in the prison at night so I might as well relieve whoever is on watch. It’s not like I’m going to get anymore sleep now anyway.

Climbing the steps, I swallow down my nerves and pray that it’s someone I know. My prayer is answered. Daryl is pacing the walkway when I make it through the door. 

“The hell you want?” He snaps, looking at me like I’ve just crashed his bike.

My mouth opens in surprise at his hostility.

“Well? Ya gonna answer or ya just gonna stand there like a slack jawed dumb ass?”

I don’t know what his problem is but I know sure as hell I’ve done nothing to warrant this abuse. 

“I came to find my stick, from what I can tell, it’s got wedged up your ass. Care to return it?”

He stalks towards me, his eyes dark and his fists clenched. I expect him to stop when he gets close but he doesn’t and I’m left with no choice but to back up until I hit the door. Even then he advances, a snarl on his lips and a menacing expression fixed to his face.

“Leave me the hell alone.” He growls, only coming to a halt when his boots actually touch mine. 

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“You are! I’m sick a everyone pandering to ya. You’re a grown ass woman so act like it.”

My confusion is rapidly being replaced by fear. With each word he spits, he drops his face closer until he’s literally in my face.

“Daryl?”

“Ya shoulda stayed out there,” he points angrily to the gate, “ya nothin’ but trouble an I’ve had enough. Ya ain’t worth ma time no more.”

He could have hit me and it would have hurt less than what he’s just said. I close my eyes, trying to shut him out as I cringe away from words that are reminiscent of ones hurled at me years ago. Instantly I’m powerless against him. He’s flipped the right switch and all my courage and fight disappears in the blink of an eye. What is left is weak, pathetic and worthless. 

He’s right. I’m not worth his time. Whatever happened whilst I was gone has finally opened his eyes to the truth. I’m a burden, a burden to him and the people of this prison.

Dropping the cigarettes, I push hard against his chest to try and move him but he’s too strong. No matter how hard I shove he remains exactly where he is.

“Get yer hands off me!” He roars, slapping them away.

“Please,” I whisper to his chest unable to meet his fierce glare. I want to beg him to let me go but I can’t speak. One by one my abilities to function are shutting down.

“Don’t!” His anger is only growing stronger and I’m defenseless against it. I’m locked inside the prison my father constructed, my heart racing and my breaths shortening. “This is all on you. I wasn’t the one who ran away ‘cos things got tough. Just ‘cos you can’t handle a new face.” He stabs a finger at my chest. “Ya don’t get to disappear for a day an’ make me worry. Ya ain’t my responsibility no more.”

Squeezing my eyes tight, I try to control my tears knowing that if I cry it will only anger him further. I can’t let him have that over me, he’s stripped me of everything else, at least let me keep some dignity.

“Y’ain’t my problem!” He screams before finally backing away. 

Seeing my chance, I almost rip the door from it’s hinges in my haste. Running as fast as my legs will carry me, I flee. I need to get as far from Daryl as I can. Venturing down into the tombs I rush onwards despite the darkness. I’m too wrapped up in my own mind, my own history to even consider walkers as I flee. The only thing I can think is to try and outrun the words but no matter how far or fast I go, I can’t escape. I carry them with me and I can’t let them go.

Finding an open storeroom I grab the heavy door and swing it closed hard. The ensuing bang resonates through my body as I collapse in the shadows against the wall. 

Encased in complete darkness and alone I let go of my emotions. I’m far enough away from everyone to purge myself of the hurt, disgust and self-loathing so I scream. I shout and yell and scream myself hoarse, allowing the scorching tears to pour down my heated cheeks. 

Humiliation, repulsion and heartrending grief leaks out through my broken sobs and as I lay curled in a fetal position, my heart shatters into thousand pieces, yet again. Face down on the dirty concrete I tremble as I replay Daryl’s hard words. There had been nothing but hatred in the way he spoke to me and I still don’t know why. What triggered it all?

_He came to his senses. He saw the real you._

Clenching my jaw I lay my hands over my ears and try to block out the constant replay looping around in my brain. 

_Ya ain’t worth ma time no more._

It doesn’t help. All I can hear is Daryl’s voice affirming what I’ve known all along. They’ve seen the real me and they’ve decided I’m the weak link. 

It’s time to go, I’ve outstayed my welcome.

Wiping my eyes, I fill my lungs with air and stand up. I know that there are other ways out of here without having to go through the front gate. I also know they’re dangerous but I’d rather take my chances with the walkers than face Daryl again.

Using my jacket, I clean my face and let out a slow breath. Walkers have never been an issue. It’s always been people. I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different. I should have learned my lesson by now.

Opening the door I glance down the corridor leading back to the safe areas. I wish I’d brought my bag but I’m not going to risk going back for it. I’ll just have to start afresh. Again.

My fingers search for my blades and wrap around the handles tightly. Puling them free I gain comfort and courage from the memories they stir. 

I’ve been here before and I survived. I can do it again.

With one final glance back, I head into the bowels of the prison to search for a way out.

 

*

 

Exactly one week later and I’m back in the town I’d scavenged. It had been hard going on foot not to mention the growing volume of walkers, but I’d made it. I knew there wasn’t likely to be a great deal here but I was sure I’d manage to find some bits and pieces before I moved on. Maybe even find a car.

The week has been hard. I’d gotten used to the comforts at the prison and it was difficult to readjust. My stomach has growled constantly but I’ve made it through, falling back on habits I’d thought I wouldn’t have to use again.

Sticking to the edges of the town, I meander through the houses, careful to stay low and silent incase dumb and dumber were still in the vicinity. However, by the time the sun has started to set I’ve thankfully seen and heard nothing. 

Shoving a bottle of water into a bag I’d taken from the third house I’d raided, I hop out of the window and head into the street. This road is laid east to west and I have an uninterrupted view of the sun as it kisses the horizon, setting fire to the sky. I should be making camp for the night but I can’t move. The enchanting array of colors as the day takes its final breath is too alluring to simply turn from so I allow myself a moment to enjoy the breath taking show.

A smile ghosts across my lips. No matter what I’ve been through I’m still a sucker for a sunset.

Just as I’m about to leave I spot something in the shimmering light and my heart thuds uneasily. Squinting against the light, the thing grows bigger and is joined by the throaty grumble of an engine.

By the time I’ve come to my senses and moved I can already see the shape of a bike heading towards me at high speed.

Dropping my bag, I sprint back to the open window and haul myself up. I don’t know who it is and I’m not about to stand around to find out. Best case scenario it’s Daryl who’ll tear another strip off me, worse case… I can’t even bring myself to think about it.

I land in an ungraceful heap and flatten myself against the hardwood floor just as the bike stops and the engine is killed. Damn it, they’d seen me. Crawling across the floor, I manage to make it to the staircase before the front door is kicked in and a gruff voice calls out.

“Red, ya in here?”

I have a choice. Fight or flight. I choose flight. I’m on my feet and running before he even realizes I’m definitely here. Vaulting out of the window I land awkwardly but shake it off. I can’t afford to be slowed down.

I want to look back, I want to see but if I do I’ll slow down, so I keep my focus on the edge of the forest and will my legs to move faster. I can’t hear anything above the thud of my pulse and my gasping breaths but I can feel him chasing me. With each step closer to the trees I feel a sense of lightness until it becomes apparent that I’m going to make it. Bursting through the undergrowth I risk a glance behind just as Daryl throw himself at me.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for abuse.

Daryl’s body collides with mine knocking the air from my lungs and sending us both crashing to the ground in a bone shuddering thud. Pain radiates throughout but I can’t stop and think about it. Rolling onto my stomach I lunge forward.

“No ya don’t.” 

His hands grip my hips and he drags me back, pulling me down underneath him. I let out a grunt; fighting against him with everything I’ve got I manage to wriggle out of his grasp and stand only to have him grab my trailing leg.

Once again I land hard but at least this time it’s on my backside. Me eyes widen and I yelp as he scrambles forwards and straddles my hips, his hands locking around my wrists and pinning me down.

“Get off!” I thrash and struggle but it’s a futile waste of energy. He’s strength hasn’t been knocked by a week of scavenging for food like mine, and he manages to hold me in place with ease.

“Settle down Red, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“Get the fuck off me.”

“Can’t.”

I tug against his hands using my torso for leverage but it get’s me nowhere. Resting my head back on the uneven floor I take a moment to assess my pain. My ankle throbs from diving out the window, my legs are burning from the run, and I’m pretty sure I cut my stomach on a rock when he dragged me back. A quick glance down confirms my suspicions. A small crimson stain is slowly growing around a tear in the fabric but the rate of blood loss suggests a minor laceration.

I lower my voice. “Get off me now or so help me…” I’m in no position to make threats and we both know it.

“Alright, I’ll let ya go if ya promise not to run.”

I glare at him. “I’m not promising you anything, Darly Dixon.” I spit his name like a curse, curling my lip in disgust. He has the decency to look wounded for all of a second before his gaze drops to my stomach.

“Ya hurt.”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” The double meaning of this exchange isn’t lost on me, or Daryl it would seem as he releases one wrist to lift my top and check my wound. 

The second he lets go, I grab for my knife but my position and his weight make me clumsy. Before I can connect with the handle he’s taken my hand back in his and I’ve lost my chance.

His blue eyes darken and his gaze drops. “Ya hate me that much?”

I’m dumb struck that he even has to ask after the way he spoke to me. 

“Let me say my piece an’ then, if ya want, ya can go. I won’t try an’ stop ya.”

“Tell it to someone who cares.” I snap, tugging against him and failing to make any impact. Again.

“Fine, have it your way.” He sighs keeping my wrists locked in his. Carefully he gets to his feet. I try to run, I try to kick and bite but he’s always one step ahead of me. No matter what I do he has me beat until finally he drags me up, pins my back to his chest and half carries, half pushes me back to the house.

In the den he literally throws me onto the couch and moves to guard the door. The only other escape route is the window to his left but even if I could out maneuver him to reach it, I’d never open it in time. I’m his prisoner.

He shuffles on the spot and wrings his hands together. “I shouldn’ta—“

“Save it.” I’m in no mood for any apology he has to offer. Nothing he can say will change how I feel about him.

“Went on a run yesterday. Found a Big Spot. Think we can use it as a constant supply place.”

“Why the fuck do I care?”

“Ya ain’t gonna make this easy are ya?” He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest.

“You want it easy? Move aside and let me pass. You’ve said all you need to say to me and I’ve got nothing for you so just go back to your people and let me be.” With a heave, I ignore my painful stomach wound and sore ankle, and stand up. “Just forget I ever existed and let me move on.” I advise, limping towards the door. 

The closer I get the more hopeful that he’s heard me I become but at the last moment he pushes away from the frame and blocks my path.

“I tried.” He says softly.

“Bullshit, you’re—“

“To forget ya. I tried. Couldn’t. What I said, it was wrong and I shouldn’ta run my mouth like I did. I was all kinds a pissed an’ I let it rile me. I said thing’s I didn’t mean.” 

“Daryl, please, listen to me when I say this. I. Don’t. Care. Now move. I’m done screwing around.” To prove my point I lock a hand around a knife handle.

“My daddy was a waste a space. Didn’t teach me shit except maybe what a daddy shouldn’t be. He liked talkin’ with his fists, ya know?”

I step gingerly away quickly and turn from him. I don’t want to hear this; I don’t want to lose the anger I have for him because that’s the only thing protecting me right now. “Don’t!” I warn.

“I ain’t never… My mom died when I was younger than Carl. Weren’t anyone there for me ‘cept Merle an he weren’t around all the time.” I can hear his shuffling and from the way his words are muffled he must be chewing on his thumb. 

“Daryl—“

“No! Ya gotta understand. I don’t do it ta hurt ya, I do it ‘cos it’s all I ever known. I don’t know any other way ta be. All ma daddy showed me was how to be mean an’ angry. I ain’t good with words like Rick an’ I ain’t like calm like Hershel. I ain’t good like them, I’m trash, I’m nothin’. Ya can’t let what I said hurt ya ‘cos I ain’t important enough to listen to. ‘Sides, I didn’t mean none of it. I jus…”

My eyes are closed and I’m trying so hard to remember the burn of indignation but it’s too late, it’s gone, lost beneath the tidal wave of empathy. I understand what Daryl’s telling me. It’s all falling into place, the way he spoke to me, the words he used, they’re all a throwback to what his daddy taught him, just like me. 

“You’re daddy broke you, too. I get it.” I sigh. 

“’M sorry, Red.”

And just like that I’m undone. All the fury, the resentment and the hatred has melted into a puddle, flushed out by understanding, empathy and forgiveness.

“Damn it, Dixon,” I mutter, “you’re a god damn piece of work, you know that?” I spin around to find him in the doorway, hanging his head in shame. “Oh no, no you don’t.” Hobbling towards him I grab his face in my hands and force him to look at me. “What you said, it was the worst thing you could ever say to me and whilst I now understand why, I can’t just pretend you didn’t say it.”

He opens his mouth but I silence him with a glare.

“But this, this shame you feel over what your father did, this isn’t on you. You’re more than your circumstances. You’re more than your history. You’re a million times more than your father ever was or could be. What he did, that’s on him. What happened to you, that’s not your fault,” I can see his eyes hardening and his mood slowly sinking back into self preservation mode so I talk faster before he lashes out again, “I’m like I am because of what I went through. It affected me and even now, even though I’m an adult and I have enough distance to see things from a different perspective, I still fall into the same role as soon as I’m put in that situation. I shut down. I… You’ve seen.” It’s painful to dissect myself for him. Running my hands through my hair, I step carefully on my injured ankle and move to look out of the window. The sun has disappeared and twilight is upon us. 

“What I’m trying to say is that I’ll get over it now that I understand why you said it, now that I know you didn’t mean it, but it’s going to take some time to forget. But that… that’s on me, these are my demons to work through… You, you made a mistake but it’s okay, you’re human and I forgive you.” My gaze travels down the street as I gain courage in the gloom. “You didn’t create these wounds, you just accidentally pressed on one, but I’ll survive. Just like you. We’ll both survive this.”

I don’t know if I’m talking about our present situation or the new world. I’m not even sure it makes a difference anymore.

He moves behind me, his body so close I can feel the heat radiating from him, and then ever so gently, he lays a hand on my shoulder. 

In silence we stand at the window. My thoughts are slowing and the pain is at a level that’s hard to ignore. I drop my hands to the windowsill and stoop forward, relieving my legs of some weight and taking the pressure off my stomach.

“It’s too late to head out. We should stay here tonight and move on in the morning.” I say quietly.

He makes a noise of approval.

“Daryl?”

“Mhm?”

“What started it? Why’d you get so pissed in the first place?”

His fingers tense and his grip tightens for a moment before he removes his hand.

“’S not important.”

I want to know how we ended up here and I think I deserve answers but as I turn to tell him this I note how weary he looks. This whole conversation has drained him.

“Go. There’s three perfectly fine bedrooms upstairs, go choose one and get some sleep. I’ll move your bike into the garage and barricade the doors.”

He stares down at me and in the limited light I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“Nah. Ya hurt. You go upstairs, I’ll deal with ma bike and the doors.”

Rolling my eyes, I huff. “I’m capable you know.”

“Just… Don’t argue, Red. Please.”

His tone is so soft and pleading that I’m powerless to protest. Without another word I steadily make my way up the stairs and pick a room at the back of the house, over looking the garden.

A while later, Daryl joins me. In the darkness I’d tried to examine my wounds but it was impossible to get any idea how bad they were without light. Thankfully though the cut on my stomach had stopped bleeding so it couldn’t be that bad. I’m laid on the far side of the bed when he punctures the quiet with a slight huff to let me know he’s here.

“Ya asleep?” 

“No.”

“We good?”

I find myself smiling. Even after everything I’d said, he still couldn’t accept that I’d forgiven him. “We’re good, Daryl.”

“Alright.”

It goes silent and I assume he’s left until a shadowy figure steps into the room and sits on he edge of the bed.

“What’s eating at you, Daryl?”

He leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees.

“I’m sorry for your daddy. I can’t stand that I made ya think he was right about ya, cos he weren’t. Ya not nothin’.”

“Forget it. Like I said, they’re my demons—“

“An I fed ‘em.”

I chuckle dryly into the darkness. “They’re well fed regardless. You… You only turned on the light in the kitchen.”

“If yer daddy were still here, I’d beat his ass to the floor.”

“If he was still around,” I swallow, “I probably wouldn’t be.”

“Don’t say that.”

I bite my tongue knowing that my statement is true. We lapse into silence again and fatigue settles over my aching body. I still haven’t fully decided if I’m going to return to the prison. I like the freedom out here but there’s no denying the hardships that come with being this side of the fence. Not to mention the loneliness. It’s true that I like solitude, I like my privacy, probably more so than the next person but it was nice having Carol, Sasha, Maggie and the others to talk to. 

And then there’s Daryl.

Glancing across I can make out his shape and my heart constricts. I hate to admit it to myself but I have missed him. 

“Lie down, Daryl.” It comes out as a weary request and causes him to turn and look at me. “We’re safer in the same room and the bed’s big enough for you, me, carol, Rick _and_ Carl.”

“Nah, I’ll take first watch—“

“Lie your ass down. You’ve barricaded the doors and hidden your bike. There’s no reason for anyone to suspect we’re here and if, on the very slim chance, someone tries to get in, we’ll hear them in plenty of time.”

“I don—“

“Jesus, Daryl, I won’t bite.”

I wait. His response isn’t forthcoming. He simply sits there. I assume he’s waiting me out and the second I fall asleep he’ll escape. For some reason this makes me angry.

“Just go then.” I sigh, rolling onto my side, away from him.

He stands and as he reaches the door I hear him whisper a goodnight but I ignore it, too caught up in my annoyance.

Closing my eyes, I allow my body to relax into the soft mattress and listen through the silence for the sound of his boots on the hardwood floor. After a while I frown, either he’s still in the room or he’s learned to move noiselessly, although in all honesty, that wouldn’t surprise me. 

As my thoughts fade to black, I allow sleep to calm me and welcome the chance for a decent rest. The last thing I hear before I drift off is Daryl’s voice from the doorway.

“Ya ain’t nothing… Ya everythin’”


	13. Chapter 13

Snapping my eyes open, I wake from my nightmare and find myself smack bang in another. Strong arms are pinning me against a figure I can’t see, in a room I don’t recognize. Trying to twist free, I gasp as a shooting pain runs from my stomach to my chest. 

“Red, ya dreamin’. Wake up.”

“Get off me!” I scream, fighting the stranger with everything I have but it’s not enough. I’m not enough.

“Ya safe, it’s alright. It’s just a bad dream.”

A flicker of recognition stills me. I know that voice.

“Ya dreamin, ‘s just a dream.”

“Daryl?”

I’m flush against his chest and he has his arms around me. I realize I have mine around him and am resting my balled up fists against his shoulders that I’ve just been beating.

“Shit! Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you.” I apologize, dropping my hands.

“S fine.” He answers, slackening his vise like grip and letting go. 

“Sorry, I should have warned you I have nightmares.” I mutter, embarrassed to have been caught in this situation. 

“’S fine.” He repeats softly. “Heard ya callin’ out. Thought someone had got past me.”

“I’m sorry, I should have known it was going to happen, it always does when I’m emotional.” It’s still dark but I can make out his outline now that my eyes have adjusted. He’s next to me on the bed but he’s turned so that he’s sitting on the edge, looking at the wall. 

“Stop apologizing, ain’t yer fault.”

I suck in my bottom lip and chew fervently on the flesh. I remember every second of the nightmare and I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that it’s just a replay of past events or that I know I’ll have it again. 

Scooting up the bed to lean against the headboard, I hiss as my stomach pulls. The noise has Daryl turning back to me.

“My stomach,” I explain, “it’s nothing. Just moved a bit quick.”

“Ya need anything?”

“No. I’m fine.” Carefully I climb to the edge of the bed and stand up. My injury is worse than I’d originally thought but it wasn’t going to stop me from pulling my weight. “I’ll take over watch, you get some rest.” 

“Nah, I’m alright.”

Rolling my eyes, I suppress a sigh. “Daryl—“

“I mean it. I’m alright.”

“You’re so stubborn.” I tentatively step forward, wincing as my ankle fails to bear my weight. Leaning down I feel my joint, it’s twice the size it should be and burning hot to touch. Great.

“What ya doin’, Red?” There’s a hint of worry in his voice and I know, even without being able to see his expression that he’s glowering at me. Suddenly I’m thankful for the lack of light, I’d never realized how much Daryl’s tone gave away his emotion. It’s subtle, which is why I probably never picked up on it in the daylight, but it’s definitely there.

“I’m done sleeping. There’s no way I’ll settle now, might as well get up and go through my supplies.”

“Ya can’t walk.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Ya in pain.”

“So what’s new?”

“And ya think I’m stubborn?”

I let out a silent laugh. “I did miss you.” I chuckle, without thinking. Seconds later I realize what I’ve said and am metaphorically kicking myself. I can’t think like that if I’m not going back to the prison and Daryl certainly won’t appreciate any show of emotion. Shaking my head, I lean against the wall with one hand and slowly limp around to the door. I’ve been awake all of ten minutes and I’ve managed to humiliate myself more times than I care to admit. 

“Sit down b’fore ya fall down, woman. Ya can check ya bag when we get back to the prison.”

Bracing myself against the doorframe, I take a deep breath. It’s decision time. 

“I’m not going back.” I whisper, turning to face the room.

“Ya not what?” He’s outraged. Springing up he storms towards me and grips the corners of the doorframe as he looms over me. “I said I was sorry, hell, ya said ya forgive me, what more d’ya want?”

Reaching up, I timidly place my hand on his cheek but he’s quick to shake it off with a huff. He’s pissed at me, which means he won’t listen to what I say, we’re heading for another argument. The whole thing only serves as a justification for my decision.  
“This. This is why.” I move away and ignoring my soreness, I head for the stairs.

“Stop! Ya talkin’ in riddles.”

“Daryl, all we do is argue. We’re volatile together and up until now it’s only hurt _us_ , but sooner or later others are going to caught in the crossfire. I told you. I’m broken. I can’t help the way I am any more than you can. I feel trapped at the prison. I can’t think straight there so I’m going to keep making rash decision that piss you off and we’re just going to wind up here over and over again. I’m not ready to be with people. I, honestly, I don’t think I ever will be. So no, I’m not going back.”

“That’s horse shit an ya know it. What about Carol an’ Maggie an’ Sasha huh? You managed alright with them. An what of Rick? Or Hershel?” His voice is growing in volume as he stalks down the stairs behind me. “Ya scared—“

“Yes!” I shout. Spinning on the step, I balance myself by holding onto the banister with one hand and using my free hand shove him back. I don’t know if it’s the shock or the fact that he’s on a small step but he falls and lands with a satisfying smack on his ass. “I _am_ scared, that’s why I can’t be there. Those people terrify me and just because I was getting comfortable with a few doesn’t mean I was any happier there. I can’t breathe behind those fences. Inside those walls I’m a mess and that makes me dangerous, to me, to them, to you. I just can’t be there, Daryl, please, at least try to understand.”

He sits quietly and I can only hope he’s thinking through what I’ve said and reaching an understanding. 

“What about me? Ya said ya owed me. Ya can’t pay yer debt if ya ain’t there.”

It’s a low and dirty blow that has me collapsing back against the wall. “You said I didn’t owe you anything.” I whisper, winded by his exploitation.

“I was wrong.”

My head explodes with noise as a million thoughts slam into me at once. Trapped in the swirling mass of conflicting whispers, I slide down the wall, coming to rest on the uncomfortable wooden step.

I know he’s trying to manipulate me, I can see through his blatant use of my weakness, but even so, I’m left with an unresolved obligation that, no matter how much I hate, I have to take care of. I do owe him and I can’t walk away from that. I want to, I want to run as far from the prison I can, but it’s engrained into my soul – all debts must be paid.

As I come to the conclusion that I have no other choice but to go back, my body sags and I become acutely aware of every ache, pain and stiff joint. In the space of a minute I age a hundred years. 

Gritting my teeth, I disregard the overwhelming urge curl into a ball and sob at the unfairness, instead I struggle up to my feet and shuffle down the remaining steps.

“Fine.” My voice is as hollow as I feel. “You win.” Tears burn in my eyes but I blink them back. A broken body is easy to deal with, a broken spirit however… I’ve not learned how to fix that one yet.

 

*

 

It’s agony to walk to the bike but no matter how many times Daryl tries to help me, I bat him away. I don’t want him anywhere near me after what he’s done. He climbs onto the bike and holds his hand out to me, his blue eyes filled with a sadness I can’t understand. What’s he got to be upset about? He won after all.

Ignoring him entirely, I clumsily get seated on the bike, biting down on my tongue to suppress any cry of pain that tries to work free. I won’t do it. I won’t give him any more reasons to try and help me. I won’t add to my debt.

Sliding as close to the grip rails as I can, I make sure no part of me is anywhere near his body. Just looking at him is making me feel sick; god knows how I’d cope with being any closer than I have to be.

Daryl hasn’t spoken to me since I relented and I have nothing to say to him. The silence could have been uncomfortable had I paid attention but I was locked in my mind, battling unseen demons as I struggle to come to terms with where I was now heading.

The journey back is over before I know it, the fences seemingly coming into view only minutes after he’s started the engine. The sight of the battered prison makes my stomach churn in the same way the walkers used to way back at the start of this whole thing. 

Even from this distance I can see the yard is teeming with life and it sends a shiver of dread down my spine. I can picture it now. The questions, the faces, the pressure. 

As we ride through the gate and up to the main area, I keep my gaze fixed to the ground. I don’t want to see anyone and I’m doing my best to make it clear. The bike stops and the engine dies, it’s time to face the music.

My shoulders are stiff and my limbs weighty as I swing my leg over the bike. I’m shaking like a leaf and I’m sure Daryl can tell because he’s watching me closely. I manage to stand and take half a step before my body gives out and I land in a crumpled heap on the floor. Profanities spew from my mouth in a quiet tirade, some aimed at me, the rest at Daryl.

He reaches down but I hiss at him and smack his hand away. “I don’t need your help.”

My eyes meet his and he flinches momentarily under my hateful glare. Seconds later, his expression hardens and he grabs the top of my arm.

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Shut the hell up.” He counters, scooping me up and carrying me towards the prison.

I curse and shout but he strolls nonchalantly along, impervious to the insults I’m hurling. From the corner of my eye I can see people stopping to stare and as part of me grows angrier at this, the majority shies away from their unwavering eyes until I’m finally silent and still.

Daryl carries me through the hallways and up, taking me to my sanctuary on the roof and the tiniest sliver of me is thankful to him. I thought he’d parade me through the communal areas and get them all to poke and prod my injuries but he’s actually being sensitive to my needs.

In my tent, the bag has gone from my cot and the blankets are a rumpled mess. A quick glance around tells me that someone’s been sleeping here and for some reason this infuriates me.

“Who the hell has been sleeping here?” I yell as Daryl lays me down gently.

“Stay here. I’ma get Hershel to come take a look at ya.”

“Fuck you!” I scream as my pain, frustration, emotional exhaustion and anger boil over.

Daryl stops in his tracks and turns to me. His blue eyes convey a sorrow that knocks the wind from my sails and the curse from my lips. 

“Daryl, why?” I plead, desperate to know the reason I’m back here. “Why did I have to come back? What do you need from me?”

He chews his lip and looks down at his hands. A light shrug lifts his shoulders and then his gaze is back on mine. “Dunno.”

I’m trapped as a battle rages behind his eyes. He’s trying to tell me something but I can’t tell what it is. 

“’M sorry, Red.” He offers, and then quick as a flash he’s gone.

In the emptiness of the rooftop I lay my head on my pillow and stare up at the canvass ceiling. “Me too, Daryl. Me too.”

 

*

 

Hershel was the first person I saw after Daryl. He checked me over and patched me up, strapping my ankle and stitching my stomach. That was three days ago and during my recovery I’ve been left well alone in my hideout on the roof. 

Carol and Maggie are taking it in turns to bring me food and Sasha stops by to talk about her day but other than that, I’ve seen no one. I’m glad. Daryl has kept his distance and it’s given me time to cool off. I’m still all kinds of mad at him, but I no longer want to rip out his spleen.

Chewing on my lunch, I glance over at Carol thoughtfully. She hadn’t questioned me once about what had happened and I want to know why.

‘You never asked.” I say, swallowing my food and putting my bowl aside. 

“Because I didn’t need to.” She meets my gaze and I understand, Daryl already told her.

“So what did he say?”

A wry smile lights her face. “Why don’t you ask him?”

I snort, instantly regretting it as my stitches pull. “For one, I haven’t seen him in days—“

“And whose fault is that?”

“His!” I protest indignantly.

“”Sure it is.” She laughs.

“And two,” I continue, “I couldn’t get a straight answer out of him if my life depended on it. He doesn’t open up to me.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Carol argues, reaching over to snag my bowl. “You’re just not asking the right questions.”

I sigh. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?” 

“Oh don’t play innocent with me. You’re talking in riddles and you know it.”

Pursing her lips, she sits down next to me and bumps her shoulder gently against mine. “I wouldn’t tell anyone about our private conversations so you can’t expect me to divulge what Daryl’s said in confidence. It’s not fair.”

She’s right and it’s infuriating.

“Then perhaps you can convince Daryl to be honest with me the next time he makes it up those stairs.” I huff.

“Oh sweetie,” she laughs loudly, “I’ve been trying that for days. But sure, I’ll send him up.” A wicked smile flits across her face just as she disappears around the door.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” I yell but if she hears me, she doesn’t reply.

 

I spend the rest of the afternoon alternating between sitting on the edge of the building to watch the movement below and polishing my blades.

In the tower to my left I recognize the person on sentry duty but there’s no wave passed between us. I still can’t fathom why he’s so insistent I stay at the prison, especially when it’s clear we can’t even be friends anymore. What possible use does he have for me being here?

I scowl at the back of his head. He’s not alone at the moment and I’m not surprised to see Carol stood next to him. In unison they look over at me and I narrow my eyes to try and see why. It’s a pointless exercise; they’re too far away for me to see anything useful.

Leaning my elbows on my knees, I drop my head into my hands and replay everything that happened between Daryl and I from start to end, trying to determine what it is I’m doing here. It’s a routine I’ve fallen into since being back and despite hours of analyzing, I still can’t reach anything close to a conclusion.

Carefully I lay back to cloud watch, leaving my legs dangling over the building. There’s nothing to be found in my mind so I search the sky instead. The sun is starting it’s decent and I smile as I wait patiently for the stars.

“Ya tryin’ to give Carol a heart attack?” Daryl calls, emerging out of the shadow of the doorway.

“What?”

“She don’t like ya sittin there, makes her nervous.”

“Why? She afraid I might jump?”

He doesn’t come near me and I watch with interest as he flops down on my cot and makes himself comfortable.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You slept here when I left.”

He ignores me.

“What do you want, Daryl?”

“Ya sound jus’ like Carol.” He retorts.

“Stop dodging the question.”

“Fine.” He sits up and reaches over to my bag, helping himself to the bottle of whiskey I’d found on my scavenger trip. “Ya mind?” He asks, putting his mouth around the neck and taking a swig.

“It’s customary to wait for an answer before helping yourself.” I snap, pulling my legs back and attempting to stand. 

He watches me closely as I get my balance, averting his eyes as soon as I’m far enough away from the edge of the building he’s sure I won’t fall.

“I came ta say sorry.”

“Oh change the record already.” Batting his legs to the side, I settle myself at the bottom of the cot and grab for the whiskey but he moves it away. “I think you’ll find that’s my drink.”

“I think ya’ll find, I’m drinkin’ it!”

“Prick.”

He smirks.

“Carol said I should ask you—“

“What?” He sits up suddenly, his eyes narrowed and his muscles tense. 

Seizing the opportunity I lunge for the whiskey but as always, he’s quicker. He moves his arm behind his body but I’m not about to give up on what’s mine. Pushing forward I manage to close my fingers around the neck of the bottle and as he drags it further away, I send us both tumbling down onto the cot.

“Motherf—“ Letting go of the prize, I plant my hands either side of his face to stop me collapsing on top of him. “Gimme my damn drink.” I yell, not caring one iota that I’m draped over his torso and my stitches are pulling. It’s all about the principle of the matter now and I won’t back down.

“Nah.” He draws it out, mocking me with a surly grin.

My eyes dart to the bottle and back giving him enough warning as I make for the whiskey again. It’s almost too easy for him to catch my hands and roll us over. The momentum of his action pushes us off the cot, we land on the floor and some of the whiskey sloshes out of the bottle. I grunt as his weight crushes me but even as I struggle to breathe I refuse to give in.

“Just give it!” I pant.

“Just take it.” He taunts, setting the bottle out of my reach.

It’s a replay of what happened at the town. I thrash, unwilling to back down from the argument and he pins me in place with hardly any effort.

“God damn it Daryl. What is your problem?”

His smile drops and he stares down at me, strangely serious all of a sudden.

“Please,” I beg, “just tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

His hands move up from my wrists to find mine and he laces our fingers together. His gaze moves with his hands and the expression he wears is one of amazement and wonder, like he can’t quite believe that our hands fit together.

His mood has shifted and I can’t tell where his head is at. He’s silent but I don’t think he’s angry or remorseful. In a blink his gaze is on mine and the intensity in his eyes causes my heart to jump. I’m scared and I don’t know why. 

“Tell my why ya call yerself Red an I’ll tell ya why I brought ya back.”

My eyebrows pull down at his sudden change of pace. I can’t keep up with his thought process, I don’t know where he’s heading. Confused and shocked, I stare up, holding his gaze steady.

“My daughter, Tasha. She was learning her colors and… After the change, I took out a group of walkers and got covered in blood. When she saw me she got scared so Nick pretended that it was just a test to see if she knew the color. After that, whenever I got blood on me she’d point at me and say red. It, it kinda stuck. Nick adopted it first, then my mom and finally, even Tasha.”

His eyes cloud over and I feel him drawing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. The sensation grounds me, pulling me back from the memory. I close my eyes and lean my head against his arm, drawing comfort from the contact I’d been fighting against. I’m breathing heavily but my racing heart won’t slow and I can’t control my body. I’m drowning in a sea of emotion, the torrent of raw sentiment pulling me deeper into senselessness leaving me physically trembling.

“What was ya before ya was Red?” His voice is barely more than a sigh.

I answer before I have the chance to think. “Eden.”

I open my eyes just in time to catch him sucking in his bottom lip and scrunching his eyes up. It’s a brief reaction to my real name but I saw it. His breathing hitches and ever so slowly he lowers his head, his eyes darting from mine to my lips and back.  
At once my heart stops and my eyes widen. 

His face is barely an inch from mine and he’s staring so deep into my eyes he must be able to read my thoughts. 

“I brought ya back ‘cos I’m selfish.” He blinks, scowls and promptly rolls off me and stands up.

Without his presence, I’m freezing cold and I can’t stave off the shiver wracking my body. 

“Ya bleedin’.”

He’s right; I’ve pulled my stitches.

“Ya need Hershel.”

“No,” I protest, struggling to get up. 

With the tiniest of smiles, he offers his hand to me and I take it without arguing. I’m still too stunned, and trying to process what just happened, to argue. He helps me up and slips his arm around me to help me to the cot. The second I’m nestled back next to his body I stop shaking.

Once he’s sure I’m comfortable and settled, he lazily strolls to the whiskey and snatches it up.

“Thanks for the drink, Red. Think it’s your turn now.” 

I take the bottle from his outstretched arm and gladly tip it to my lips. I have no idea what just went down but there’s been a definite shift in our relationship. Again. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friendship like this. As soon as we find solid ground, something happens and we change positions.

Over the bottle I notice him leaving. “Wait,” my brain is slowly chugging back into the station of clear thinking and I want more answers. “What exactly do you want from me?”

He laughs but it’s hollow and humorless. With a wave of his hand he steps out of sight and leaves but not before calling out an answer.

“Everythin’. I want it all.”


	14. Chapter 14

Sleep evades me; it has done ever since the day Daryl acted so strangely over a bottle of whiskey.

Running a hand down my face I get up and walk to the edge of the building. I haven’t seen him in days, apparently he’s out on a run or hunting or something. I don’t know. I’m glad though, I wouldn’t know what to say if I did see him but… I miss him. 

My anger at him has abated and the more I think about him the stronger the pull is to let go of this weird little feud. It doesn’t help that Carol is in my ear every time she sees me, singing his praises, telling me stories of what he’s done; what he did for her and for Sophia. Yeah, I miss him.

It's strange to think that I've become attached to the man who essentially is the cause of my latest set of problems, but I have. No matter which way I look at it, I wish that he was here. 

Apart from the two stitches I tore, my stomach is healing nicely and my ankle no longer hurts. There’s no reason for me to stay cooped up in my tent but I don’t venture down the stairs. Up here I’m safe from the constant questions. Part of me wonders if it's because Daryl isn't around to ward off the unwanted attention, not that he would, but for some reason I'm more relaxed when I know he's nearby. 

Still, it’s late enough now that it should be deserted downstairs. Grabbing a change of clothes and a towel, I decide to shower, hoping that a clean body will somehow help clear my mind. Daryl has hijacked my thoughts and I’m exhausted of it all now. There are only so many times you can dissect our interactions before it drives you insane.

Downstairs the water is cool but it makes a refreshing change from the heat of the day and rejuvenates me. I take my time, enjoying the sound as it hits the tiled floor. It’s therapeutic and soothing. Sighing, I wallow for a moment longer before shutting off the shower and quickly drying.

Once I’m fully clothed I stroll through the hallways, listening for the sound of people but hearing nothing. If it were like this all the time I’d happily venture out more often.

In the communal area a small light draws me out of the shadows and into the room. At the far side on the floor an old hurricane lamp houses a large candle, and it’s beautiful. I stare at the glass and the engravings decorating it, marveling at its intricate carvings. 

Daryl is next to it, his legs bent and knees splayed. He looks deep in thought and despite the initial pull to go to him I’m about to turn and leave when his eyes snap up. Fear flashes across his face and for a brief moment, he looks completely and utterly lost. It truly is a heartbreaking sight to behold. 

I don’t move and neither does he, we simply stare at one another as the light dances between us. 

_This is ridiculous. You were friends. You can still be friends._ I hear the words Carol has said as clearly as if she’s stood next to me and I know she’s right. He pisses me off and at times I could happily slap him, but that pales in comparison to how much I want to spend time with him, how much I miss him when he's not around. 

I hate that I've somehow grown attached to him. I hate that I can't walk away. But most of all, I hate that I haven't seen him for days. 

“C’mon, Dixon, let’s go.” I call.

He dips his head, stands and follows. Just like that. No wise cracks, no arguments.  
The shock of his compliance reverberates through me as I walk blindly from the room. Once in the hallway I contemplate heading back upstairs but at the last moment alter my course and wander outside to the yard. Dumping my clothes by the door, I find myself leading him towards the cars.

His bike is parked at the front of the row and I step over to it. It’s a beautiful machine and as I run my hand over the gas tank I remember the sensation of freedom I got riding behind Daryl. Sliding into the seat, I risk a peek at Daryl who is keeping his distance. Again he dips his head and I know I’m not in trouble for touching his precious bike.

“You’ve been busy the last few days.” I comment, reaching for the handlebars, dragging the tips of my fingers over the various ridges, switches and buttons.

“Mhm”

“I missed you.” It’s hard to say and I can’t look at him when I do but I need him to know. I don’t know why, maybe it’s because Carol has got into my head, maybe it’s because I just want him to know I’m not holding onto my grudge. “Where were you today?”

He sighs. “Remember that Big Spot I told ya about?”

“Yeah.” I watch him from the corner of my eye, noting how his shoulders slump. From his body language I’d say it didn’t go well. 

“Come here, talk me through this.” I point at the bike.

He steps back moving away, but then changes his mind and comes over to join me. As he nears, I tilt my head and offer him a small smile of forgiveness. Despite it all, I do forgive him, even if he has trapped me in this place. I have to, because without him I’d be dead and when I look at what he’s given me rather than when he’s taken away, I’ve a lot to be grateful for.

“Ya feelin’ better now?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“I asked Carol to keep an eye on ya, make sure ya had everythin’ ya needed.”

“You did, did you?” He looks away, embarrassed. "Daryl?”

He grunts. 

An urge to feel him close overwhelms me, and for a second I can’t breathe. Shaking my head, I push down the alien emotion and collect my thoughts. What the hell was happening here? How was it possible to go from wanting to murder him, to needing to have him close, in just a few days? What the hell was happening to me?

My mind wanders back to the town and waking up in his arms. At first it had been petrifying until I'd realized it was Daryl. And then... The comfort his closeness had brought me was something I wanted again and again and again. 

“Come here.” I pat the seat behind me.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Please?”

“I don’t ride behind no one. Ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

A dry laugh passes my lips. “Well it’s a good job I’m not asking to ride it then, huh? Don’t worry, Daryl, I’m not going to bite you.” My grin grows into a smirk. “Or hit, slap or show any sign of violence. I swear. I’ve been having anger management therapy.”

A tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth signaling my victory. I'm wearing him down. 

"C'mon Dixon, sit your ass down already."

He's almost dancing on the spot he's shuffling so much and it would be comical if I weren’t so eager to get him on the bike.

"You afraid of your own damn bike?" I tease. 

Moments later he’s seated behind me and I’m leaning to the side asking him what everything does.

“Ya really wanna know all this stuff?” His mouth is by my ear and his chest presses against my back as he grips the clutch. A foreign sensation runs through me and I’m aware of every nerve in my body fizzing.

“Yes. That day we went to the strip mall, the ride out there was exhilarating.” I twist to look at him. “Honestly, Daryl, I can’t recall the last time I felt so alive, so free. I want to feel that again. I want..."

He’s staring again, wearing the same look he had the night we did battle over the bottle of whiskey. It’s intense and inescapable, and it’s hard to think with his face so close to mine.

He moves slowly, like a hunter being careful not to spook his kill, and takes my hands in his. His dwarfs mine in comparison but it only adds to the growing sense of security I get whenever he's touching me like this. Sliding us forward, he places my hands on the handlebars softly and holds me in place. His arms act as a barrier, caging me in but for once I don’t mind being imprisoned.

“This is the clutch. Hold it in ta change gears.” He shifts around to my other side. “An’ this is the throttle, twist it back ta go faster.” He moves back to my left. “Ya got yer blinkers here, an the headlight here, an down here--” His foot catches mine and he uses his knee to raise my leg to the right point. “ya gears.”

“Okay.” I breathe, lost in the sensation of having Daryl pressed against my back and the memory of riding behind him. 

His proximity shouldn't soothe me like it is. I'm aware of this. I also know that I need to stop myself from pushing him any further out of his comfort zone but my ability to follow rational thought has disappeared. The darkness has made me bolder and I give in to my reckless nature. 

Leaning back, I rest my head in the crook of his neck and look up at the stars. Behind me, he tenses, his breathing stopping and his muscles locking into place and yet I don't move. I don't give him the space he obviously wants. 

Am I punishing him? It's that what this is? Am I twisted enough to use his weaknesses against him the way he has with me? Yes. I am. But this isn't retribution. This isn't punishment. 

"What ya doin' Red?" He whispers timidly. 

"Being selfish." 

I feel him swallow hard as he tries to figure out his next move but I beat him to it. 

"You may have taken my freedom, Daryl, but you've given me safety. You've given  
me friendship. You've given me... This. Whatever this is. I don't know what to call it but, I need it. Maybe not much and maybe I'll only ever need it this once, but right now, tonight, I need you."

And it's true. A part of me is clinging to Daryl and everything he represents. The good, the bad and the broken. 

He nods once and takes a breath as he allows himself to relax against me. As his weight leans into me, I let my worries drift into the darkness. Although I’m inside the fences, I’m as light as a feather and free as a bird. Not even the groaning from the nearby walkers can bring me down.

Gripping the handlebars I imagine us riding down the empty highway, the wind savage as we tear down the open road. Free. Happy. My smile only widens as Daryl withdraws his hands from mine and locks his arms loosely around my waist, adding to the fantasy playing in my mind.

“We lost Zach today.”

His voice cuts through my daydream and brings me crashing back to earth. 

Zach. I didn't know him well but I'd seen him with Beth a few times. He'd been quite close to Daryl too. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He rests his forehead on my shoulder and tightens his arms, pulling me closer to his chest. 

“Nah, not much ta say. He got bit an' then the ceiling came down on us. We lost Zach an’ the Big Spot.”

Letting my hands slip from the bike, I lay them over Daryl’s and squeeze. He’s not looking for sympathy. He’s just telling me about his day.

Once more the tone of our evening had changed. It's become heavy and oppressive and instead of enjoying one another's company, we're now clinging to each other through desperation. I need to turn it around again, to chase the elation his words have crushed. 

“Can I ask you something?” I begin, “why did you sleep on the roof when I was gone?”

He moves, tilting to face me and shrugs, the motion rocking my whole body.

“Alright.” I smile. “Well you built the shelter so I guess it’s technically yours. If you want to sleep up there, there’s room enough for two.”

He exhales hard down my neck and I shiver and heat up simultaneously. My eyes close and my breathing speeds as a whole new emotion rolls over me. Unprepared for the wave of desire, I sit up, breaking free of his hold.

“It--it's getting late.” I stammer, clawing my way off the bike. 

“What’s wrong?”

He jumps up and catches my chin with his hand, forcing my face to his.

“It’s nothing. I just…” I’m blushing. I can feel the heat warming my neck and face. 

“Red?” His expression drops from concern to embarrassment as he reads my face and he steps away from me. “’M sorry, I didn’t mean ta--”

“It wasn’t you.” I blurt out fast. “It’s me, it was my mind, it wasn’t you.” This is rapidly going from bad to worse and I’m somewhat unconvinced that we’re both adults, the way we’re behaving right now. "Shit! Fuck!" 

"Red--"

"Just... Don't. Please. This is all my fault. Can we just forget it? Forget you ever saw me tonight." I plead, whirling around to march back to the privacy of my tent where I intend to die a slow and painful death from humiliation. 

"No. Yer not runnin' away from me again." He catches my arm and approaches me with caution, stopping when his boots kiss mine. "I ain't gonna let ya pretend this was all on you. I sat on the bike with ya, I put ma arms around ya' an' no one forced me. I did it 'cos I wanted ta."

"Daryl." I have no more words. My mind is in tatters and my body is a confused mess. I'm stuck between fear, humiliation and lust. I can’t believe how it reacted to a simple sigh. It’s betrayed me in the worse possible way. I don’t want to add any more complications into this bizarre friendship but somehow I have. 

“I need to go.” I state. 

“No!” Awkwardly he shuffles nearer and stiffly puts his hands on my shoulders. "Y'ain't never got ta run from me again, ya hear me?"

Easy for him to say, he’s not the one who just caused a scene. He bends his knees, trying to catch my eye so I drop my chin to my chest. My reactions draws a groan from him and in an unprecedented move, he snakes his hands to my hips to tug me to his chest where he cradles me gently.

Inhaling, I’m overwhelmed by his scent. It’s smoky and earthy with undertones of leather and grease. Breathing him in I take a second to collect my thoughts.

"You should have left me there, in the woods." He holds me tighter, his chin resting on top of my head. "This confusing thing, us," I sigh, "I don’t know what to make of it. One minute we’re fighting and the next we’re connecting. At least, I feel like I am. You, I don’t know… It’s exhausting. Was it always like this? Before? I don’t ever remember it being so grueling to have friendships.”

“I didn’t have many friends b’fore. Was just me an Merle mostly.”

“I had lots. Friends, colleagues, acquaintances, family. Look at me now.”

“Ya got me.”

In three words he makes my heart stutter. "I don't want to break you, Daryl." I whisper, voicing my deepest fear. “And I think I might. I have a tendency to hurt people who get too close. Or worse, get them killed. I don’t want to risk that for you.”

“Ain’t your decision,” he snaps. “If I wanna take the risk then that’s upta me. An y’aint the only one who’s frettin’ so just stop.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I’m a grown ass man, I make ma own decisions.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you.” I whisper.

"Ya ain't gonna."

I close my eyes. "Haven't I already?"

We lapse into our tangled web of thoughts, the heavy atmosphere eating into the comfort I’m taking from his embrace.

"Ya asked me why I brought ya back." He's chewing on his lip, I can feel him above me worrying it. "I brought ya back 'cos I don't like it when yer out there, alone, when I can't keep an eye on ya." He's struggling over every word, wrenching each syllable past his lips. "I ain't got no right bringing ya back but I'm glad I did. When ya out there, I can’t think straight ‘cos I’m frettin’ over ya. I ain’t never worried ‘bout nobody ‘till you an’ it’s fuckin’ distractin’, _you’re_ distractin’.”

“See,” I rest my hand on his chest and nibble at my thumbnail. “I’m trouble.” It kills me to admit.

“I like trouble,” he breathes into my hair and it sounds like he’s smiling.

My reply catches in my throat as I pick through the layered meaning of his words. Is it possible that I’m not the only one experiencing these confusing emotions? Is he a slave to the madness too?

There’s nothing I can say that will move us any further forward so I stay silent. In the quiet I hear his heart thumping strong. I listen to its rhythm and draw courage from the relentless beat. Whatever was happening, at least we seem to be in it together. My left hand, which had been stationary at my side up until now, runs up his torso, coming to rest at the nape of his neck. Under my ear his heart accelerates but he doesn’t tense. 

“Sorry you had a shitty day.” I offer.

“’S alright. It got better.” He begins gently pulling his fingers through my hair.

“I don’t like it when you’re gone, either.” I say it so quietly I’m not entirely sure he can hear me. 

“C’mon, Red, sun’ll be up soon, we should get some rest.”

And yet we don’t move. Neither of us willing to break contact with the other. It’s a maddeningly sweet sentiment.

I thread my fingers into his long hair mirroring his actions. “We really should move.” 

“Mhmm.”

We wait a few more minutes enjoying whatever it is we’ve found before reluctantly parting. At the door of the prison I collect my discarded clothes and follow him into the corridor. We move in silence, well practiced at navigating the prison maze in darkness. When we reach the entrance to the communal area he turns and, chewing his lip, shuffles in place. 

“Good night, Dixon.” I lean up onto my tiptoes and plant a featherlike kiss on his stubbled cheek. As I move away, he catches my jaw, his large hand resting softly against the side of my face whilst his thumb sweeps across my bottom lip. There’s a gleam in is eye that warms my soul and lifts my spirit and I can’t help the smile I’m wearing.

“G’nite, Eden.” 

My breath catches and my eyes widen. No one has called me that for years, but far from being upset it strengthens my attachment to him. It sounds so right coming from Daryl in his southern drawl, spoken quietly in the dark.

Turning my face, I kiss his palm, melting at the way his eyes close and a tiny crease forms between his eyebrows. With one last lingering look, I turn away and allow the gloomy corridor to guide me away from the man who has monopolized my thoughts and likely will for the foreseeable future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos or comments. Whilst it's lovely to hear your kind words, it's nicer to know that there are other's on this particular journey with me. Your comments and kudos are what keep me driving forward, so a massive THANK YOU, you amazing people.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

I ate breakfast outside in the main exercise yard, watching as Rick tended to the animals and vegetables. The fences beyond were struggling under the pressure of the walkers pushing against it, but he didn’t seem concerned unlike some of the others. Carol stands by my side with her hands on her hips frowning at the horde of undead. “They keep building up. As soon as we clear a load, more replace them.”

With the hint of a smile, I can see a solution. “If we could separate them, draw them away in small groups I could take them down much faster than the fence clearers can.” I’m almost excited at the prospect of being let free with my treasured blades.

“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea. I mean, how would we get ‘em into groups for one?” Maggie whose the opposite side of Carol tilts her head and looks out across the field. 

“Maybe we could distract them? Get them all facing one way and—“

“No it’s too risky.” Carol vetoes my idea before I’ve had a chance to fully think it through.

A light touch to the small of my back alerts me to Daryl’s presence. “They a problem again?” He squints at the largest group as he stuffs a handful of food into his mouth.

Carol purses her lips. “It’s getting that way, yeah.”

“Can’t we just get more people on fence duty?” I ask.

Maggie nods. “I think we’re gonna have to.”

Daryl lifts his chin. “What about us?” 

I frown not understanding his question.

“You’re fine.” Carol says, distracted by the groaning herd and waving a hand in Daryl’s direction. “We can spare the two of you.”

He wipes this hand down his trousers and throws me a smirk. “Well alright then. C’mon, Red, we got a job ta do.” And just like that he strides away.

With a quick goodbye to Carol and Maggie I catch up with Daryl and fall into step beside him. “Well this is all very clandestine. Care to elaborate?”

“We’re going on a road trip, there’s a small clinic ‘bout thirty miles north, we’re gonna see if there’s anythin’ left of it.” He gestures to my clothing. “Might wanna put yer coat on, this ain’t drivin’ Miss Daisy.”

I know instantly what he’s getting at and it brings a huge grin to my face. Today looks like it’s going to be a great day. Not only am I escaping the prison but I’m doing it with Daryl. The icing on the cake is the unspoken promise of tearing down the road on the back of his bike and the anticipation has me bouncing on the spot. He stares at me, his eyes gleaming and his own smile growing as he takes in my reaction. ‘Well? What ya want, a written invitation? Go get yer things, we’re leaving now.” He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before nudging me away.

My tatty coat is hanging on a rail near the guard tower and I sprint over to collect it. My gaze drifts back to the walkers and I note how they’re at least three deep in some places. They push against the chain link barrier and it wobbles a little too much for my liking, still, from what Carol says, they’ve been in this position before and they managed to deal with it so I trust that they’ll sort it again.

The roar of Daryl’s bike has me hurrying into my jacket, and I hasten to fasten it as he rides towards me. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.” He mocks, pulling up.

“Well that’s not strictly true now is it?” I arch a brow and he rolls his eyes.

“Get on.”

Sliding behind him I’m suddenly unsure of where to put my hands. Given the way we ended our evening I doubt he would be offended if I held onto him, but still, I’m not confident in this. Deciding on a compromise, I lay one hand on his hip and grip the rail behind me with the other. At my awkwardness, Daryl turns and throws me a look. “Y’ain’t gonna stay on unless ya hold tight.” And he proceeds to drag my hand from his hip around his waist. In doing so he pulls me forward in the seat until I’m flush against him from chest to thigh. “An’ the other.” He reaches for my left hand, his thumb stroking the back of it as he shifts me into position.

Biting my lip, I try my best to suppress a smile. I’m vibrating with eagerness, unable to contain the excitement as he picks up his feet and the bike moves out beyond the gate. He starts out slow, dropping his arm every now and then to squeeze my hand and each time he does, I lay my cheek against his solid back, letting him know that I’m content.

It’s a beautiful day for a ride. The sun is on my back and the uninterrupted road stretches out for miles in front of us. Reaching out my arms to the side, I throw back my head and close my eyes. I’m flying again. I’m free.

I feel Daryl chuckle and he pushes the bike on, the acceleration affecting my heart as well as the bike. As we increase our speed, Daryl’s left arm moves around me and he splays his fingers across my lower back, pinning me tight against him. I didn’t think this feeling could get any better, I was wrong. This is pure hedonism in all its fine glory. 

My body is singing, my nerves electrified, and being held so tightly against the solid plain of his back is more than I can handle. Once again a surge of desire takes control of my body and this time, I’m not going to fight it. Swallowing hard, I move my hands to hips, griping tightly. I need to feel more of him. I need to feel _all_ of him. His winged vest is open and underneath, his leather jacket clings tauntingly to his chest. Running the flat of my palms across his stomach, my lips press against the feather design on his back and I’m glad I can’t see his face.

I have no idea if he knows what I’m doing, hell, I don’t even know if _I_ know what I’m doing. All I can say with certainty is that I’m drunk on freedom and speed, and desperate to enjoy everything Daryl is willing to give me. Leaving one hand on his lower stomach to anchor us in place, I drag the other upwards, enjoying the sensation of leather beneath my fingertips. Under my touch, Daryl straightens his spine and the higher my hand travels the more labored his breathing becomes. I’m so caught up in the moment that I don’t notice us slowing down.

When I’ve had my fill of exploring his chest, I gently crawl my fingertips up his exposed neck, desperately wishing my lips could replace my fingers. I can think of little more than tasting him, and so I do. I’m consumed by my lust, unable to think about anything other than Daryl when I softly push his face towards me, stretch up and kiss the spot just below his ear. As my lips make contact the bike jerks to a stop and Daryl quickly untangles himself from me and drags us both off the bike. The second he tears himself from my hold, I’m brought back to earth with a bang and my lust is quickly replaced with mortification. 

What have I done? Shame engulfs me and I beg the ground to open up and swallow me, but of course it doesn’t. No, I’m going to have to face up to my stupidity and hope that I haven’t pushed Daryl too far away. Fearfully I glance at him, but I don’t look away once I see his face. Instead my gaze is locked to his and my mouth drops open as he stares back through hungry eyes. His pupils are blown and he’s looking at me with an expression as dark as any I’ve ever seen and it’s clear I’m most definitely not alone in my attraction. His chest rises and falls with each pant and it occurs to me that he’s never looked more animalistic or sexy than he does right now.

“Daryl.” My voice is husky and conveys my undeniable desire. 

He traps his bottom lip between his teeth and squeezes his eyes close. The crease I’d seen last night is back between his eyebrows as he tries to regain his senses. It’s now or never. In the back of my mind my brain is screaming at me to stop this madness, but my heart and body can’t hear over the rush of hormones. Three strides are all it takes to carry me to him and thread my fingers through his windswept hair.

The second I touch him, his eyes fly open and I see fear mixed in with lust. It’s not what I expected and it renders me statue like as I try and figure out what to do. “If you don’t want me,” I breathe, forcing out the words, “just say. But if you do… I’m right here.” With every ounce of self-control I have, I force myself to let go of him, giving the option to walk away but praying he’ll stay. His eyes sweep my face, taking in the heat coloring my cheeks and the question in my eyes before landing on my parted lips. 

Oh god this is torture.

He raises a hand, and slowly traces his thumb over my top lip and then the bottom. He’s gentle and I have to fight to stay motionless as heat pools in my stomach. My whole body is crying out for him and yet he takes his sweet time. Can he not see what he’s doing to me? My heart races and I’m breathing heavily. I’m coming undone and he’s hardly even touched me. Opening my mouth, I try to say his name but it dies on my lips as his hands cup my face and he steps closer.

“Ain’t never wanted anythin’ the way I want you.” He says, his tone low and rasping.

Staring up into his hooded gaze, I hold my breath as he lowers his mouth, pressing his lips against mine in a chaste kiss. A moment later he pulls back, and I can’t help but feel like he’s checking to see if what he’s doing is okay, even though I’m the one who initiated this.

With a shy smile, I drop my gaze. His kiss although innocent has made the indecent fantasies running through my mind kick up a gear and I’m sure he can tell what I’m thinking.

Hesitantly, he moves back to me, tilting my head up to gain access to my lips that are desperate to feel his touch. This time though, the kiss is heated. He presses against me, one hand holding my face, the other snagging my waist and grasping me tightly as his lips crash against mine. In the heat of the moment my thoughts abandon me, leaving me to act entirely on impulse.

Running my hands up his arms I find his shoulders, shoulders that are strong, wide and perfect for holding on to. Pulling us closer, I press against his chest and deepen the kiss. He responds with fervor, his tongue delving delightfully into my mouth, caressing mine with a devilish skill. My breaths are ragged, my heart is beating out of my chest and I’m on fire as Daryl kisses me hard. There is nothing sweet about this now; we’re a mess of molten passion, greedily taking what we want from each other. 

The hand that lies against my cheek, suddenly grasps my hair and his other slides around to my lower back, slamming my hips into his. A low, guttural growl echoes through him, affecting me in the most primal of ways. 

I want him. I want all of him.

My hands ghost down to his waist and I trace the line of his jeans around to his stomach. As my fingers dance beneath his clothing and find his scorching skin, he becomes rougher with me, pulling at my hair and grasping my ass. 

This is becoming hotter than hell and I’m loving every second. Lost in desire, we cling to one another, ignoring the rest of the world. Nothing else exists outside of his touch. 

His mouth leaves mine and I gasp as he finds my neck. Using my hair to guide me, he tilts my head and lightly bites his way from my ear to my collar. His name falls from my lips and my eyes fly open as he licks my pulse point.

Before I can assemble a clear thought, my hand has moved and my fingers are grasping at one of my throwing knives. Ripping free from Daryl I push him to the side and release my weapon, sending it into the skull of the lone walker ambling towards us. She drops to the floor and I watch, panting and disheveled. 

Daryl turns sharply, his eyes scanning the tree line intently. When he's satisfied we're not about to encounter any more, he drops his head and shuffles over to the bike. He’s dancing from foot to foot again, and chewing on his thumb the way he always does when he’s nervous. I watch him carefully as I stride over to collect my knife, analyzing his movements and previous actions. The way he’d looked at me to check after the first kiss spoke volumes. Even after I had started this whole thing and made it obvious that I wanted him, he was still unsure. Unsure of me and of himself. 

Was it possible that Daryl was inexperienced when it came to women? Well it is the end of the world. The dead are walking and the living have descended into chaos… Stranger things have happened.

He’d openly admitted to wanting me. He’d reciprocated my desire so I know it wasn’t all in my head. That left me with two options. Either pretend nothing had happened or accept that it had and move on. There was no blocking his touch from my memory so as far as I could see, there was only one course of action to take.

Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the bike and stand behind Daryl. Carefully, I embrace him from behind, ignoring the fact that he’s stiffened at my touch. It’s unbelievable that the man isn’t aware of the affect he has on me and it draws a light chuckle from me. “You’ve no idea what you do to me, have you?” 

“Almost got yer killed,” he mutters darkly.

So that’s what this is about.

“Bullshit. That walker was no where near us, we’d have heard her long before she posed any real threat.”

“Ya don’t know that for sure.”

My temper spikes at his petulance. “Screw you, Dixon.” I let go of him and take a step back. “You don’t get to take this away from me. For the first time in a long time I felt something other than guilt or regret or fear. You make me feel alive, no, more than that, you make me _glad_ to be alive. You don't get to sully that kiss like that, you just don't." Shaking my head, I walk away, kicking at the floor as I step into the undergrowth. Finding the nearest tree, I sit down heavily and stab at the floor with one of my knives. I want to make him see sense but everything I know about Daryl is telling me to let him be. He needs to deal with whatever is in his head in his own time without me breathing down his neck. 

Oh, but how I'd love to breathe down his neck. And lick. And nibble. 

The kiss replays in my mind and as I tip my head back against the bark, I close my eyes remembering every touch, every heartbeat. My annoyance gets the better of me and I open my eyes to continue my tirade only to see him hovering over me. His lips are pressed into a thin line and he's chewing on them. 

"I get it." I say softly. "But you need to make a choice. I've honestly no idea what this is," I gesture between us, "but I'm all in regardless. You're something, Daryl, something I can't get out of my head and I'll be damned if I let fear control yet another factor in my life. So you need to choose. You're either in it with me or this ends here and now. We draw a line and we walk away, no hard feelings."

He watches me with an impassive expression, his eyes guarded. I have no idea what he's thinking and it's beyond maddening. Sighing, I return to stabbing the floor and wait. 

"C'mon, Red. Ain't gonna get to the clinic sittin' here."

Clenching my jaw I nod in understanding. He's drawing the line. He's moving us on. 

He reaches his hand down and despite the hurt and rejection I'm trying to swallow down, I take it. After all, I'd promised him no hard feelings. I allow him to pull me up and once I'm stood, he surprises me by cupping my cheek. His warm hand against my face makes my lips part and my heart stutter. 

"Ya got ta understand I ain't good at feelin's an' shit, but I meant what I said. Ain't never wanted nothin' like I want you." 

He glances to my mouth and I wait for the kiss, only it never comes. I can see the conflict in his eyes as he struggles to figure out what he should do next. With the question hanging in the air I slip my hands under his vest and lay them on his hips. 

"I'm fine with you kissing me, Daryl. Actually, I'd actively encourage it."

He offers me a tiny smile and then leans down. His lips find mine and I smile into the kiss. It's not as innocent as the first but far more reserved than the last. A moment later we break apart and I reach up to push the hair from his eyes. 

"That you can do whenever you please."

He smiles shyly as his arm finds its way around my waist and we head back to his bike. Leaning into him, I rest my head on his shoulder and thank my lucky stars for the day Daryl Dixon walked into my life.


	16. Chapter 16

Behind the fence a dozen undead shuffle around aimlessly, oblivious to Daryl and I peering around the truck. The clinic is larger than we were expecting and an impressive chain link fence, similar to those at the prison, circles the building keeping us out and the walkers in. From where we’re hiding we’ve spotted one door but it’s partially blocked by an abandoned ambulance. From what I can tell though, it’s shut.

Gripping my knives, I mentally work out the best route through the lot to put down all the walkers. “The only issue I can see is getting in before too many of them spot me. If the gate isn’t locked it’ll only take a few minutes to deal with them all.”

Daryl looks at me like I’ve just suggested we adopt a baby. “Where in the hell is yer head at, Red? Ain’t letting you go in there.”

I’m taken aback. He’s seen what I can do; he knows I’m more than capable so why is he being difficult? “What’s the problem?”

“Can’t see a clear exit, can’t see the door properly either. Dunno if it’s secure or what’s inside that buildin’. We ain’t getting’ closer ‘till we know more.”

“That means scouting, if we do that we’ll lose the element of surprise.”

A curt shake of his head informs me that he’s holding firm and won’t be swayed. “Then we don’t go in. M’not taking risks when we don’t need ta.”

I hate to admit it, but I can see his point. Licking my lips I glance around the truck again and sigh. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an itch I needed to scratch, one that ten minutes in that enclosure would sort. With a slight pout I say goodbye to my idea and carefully put my blades away. “Okay, what’s the plan then?”

He wets his lips and points to the back of the clinic. “Split up and circle the perimeter. Check for any other way in. There’s gotta be at least one other entrance.”

“Alright then, see you on the other side I guess.”

As I walk past him he grabs the top of my arm and stops me. “Ya don’t go in without me, don’t care if there’s a neon sign beggin’ ya to walk inta the buildin’, ya don’t go in there without me. Got it?”

Holding my hands up in surrender, I roll my eyes. “Alright, I hear you.”

“I mean it, Red. Just sweep the outside an’ meet me round the back. .”

I can’t help the suggestive smirk as he finishes talking. “Meet you round the back?” I laugh softly. “Well that’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

Daryl throws me a withered look as he let’s me go but I spot the faintest of smiles lifting one corner of his mouth. “I see you smiling, Dixon.” I wink and then, pulling out my blades, stalk forward into the unknown.

The fence runs the whole way around the red brick clinic but holes litter the lower part where people have cut through. It doesn’t bode well for supplies. A little further round, a bench leans against the fence not too far from a broken window so I hop up to see what’s going on inside.

A long white corridor leads to the front of the building and from what I can see, it’s deserted. I know now that the clinic is empty, of drugs and walkers. Someone else has cleaned it out. Sighing, I sit down on the bench and run a hand through my hair. I hate thinking of heading back to the prison empty handed but unless we come across a hidden room, I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going to happen.

An angry shout pulls me from my funk and has me racing towards the corner of the clinic. As I edge closer, I slow down until I’m carefully inching forward to peer around the wall. On the other side, Daryl has his hands held high, his crossbow is in the hands of a man who’s back is turned to me. He aims the weapon and at Daryl’s head. They’re not alone. A second man, twice Daryl’s size and brandishing a revolver casually meanders out of the clinic.

“Well looky here, we got company.” He laughs.

I don’t wait to hear the rest of his welcome speech; instead I dive back to the bench and use it to hoist myself over the fence. The broken window is low enough that if I jump I can get my hands wrapped around the open frame and drag myself in. I wince as small shards of glass puncture my skin, but they don’t go deep, thankfully most of the glass has been cleared by whoever came before me. Dropping to the floor I wipe the spots of blood decorating my palms on the back of my trousers and creep silently in Daryl’s direction. 

I doubt that these men are alone – a place this size would take some clearing – so I move carefully, flitting from doorway to doorway until I hear the taunting voices outside.

“You just happen to be walking by?” The stranger scoffs with a laugh. “You think I’m fuckin’ dumb? Hey Marty, he thinks I’m fuckin’ dumb!”

Using his voice as a guide, I find my way to a branch in the corridor, and see the open door at the end. The man with the gun is now pointing it at Daryl, waving it in his face angrily.

My mind whirls into action. I can’t take them on, if I attempt to attack, one of them will fire and Daryl would get hurt. I could kill them both, but that doesn’t sit right, even though they’re threatening Daryl, they’re only protecting their home. I bite my lip, wishing, not for the first time, that I had a more ruthless streak.

Glancing around I see a discarded trolley next to a closed door. With my heart thumping I try the door handle and hold my breath as the room opens up. Inside there are jars of liquid lined in a row and next to them large bottles of drugs. On the opposite wall another door sits wide-open leading to another room similar to this. Running through I see the same layout and yet another door, which I assume leads back to the first corridor.

Grabbing two bottles of drugs and stuffing them into my pocket, I pray that Daryl can keep them talking long enough for me to put my plan into action. Back in the main hallway I race to the front door and clatter against it with my knife handle. It doesn’t take long for the dead to notice me and head on over.

“That’s right, come to momma.” I mutter, throwing the door open wide.

My heart leaps into my throat and adrenaline takes charge of my body as I lead them down to the linking corridor. As soon as I’m sure they’re following me around, I hurl myself forward and shove the trolley out of the door.

“Hey asshat! Your village called, they want their idiot back.” 

His gun swings to my direction but I’m gone before he can fire. With a loud curse he instructs his partner to cover Daryl and he comes to find me. 

I just about catch his curses as I fly through the second room into the main hallway. It’s swiftly followed by gunshots that fire as I’m hauling my ass out of the window. Again, blood smears in my palm but this time I leave it. The bottles rattle in my pockets as I land heavily outside, and I grasp them tightly to make sure they don’t fall out. I’ve gotten them this far, I’m sure as hell going to make sure I get them all the way back.

 

By the time I hotfoot it to Daryl, he’s taken down his guy, collected his crossbow and is about to run into the damn building now teaming with walkers.

“What the hell, Dixon? Get your ass over here!” I cry.

He turns and I enjoy the brief expression of relief before his face turns to thunder. He runs at me, grabs my wrist and drags me away from the commotion, through a gap in the fence. He doesn’t stop running, or let me go, until we’re hidden behind the truck we’d started out at.

When we’re in the clear, he rounds on me, pointing an angry finger in my face. “Why the hell don’t ya ever listen to a damn word I say, ya fuckin’ dumb bitch!”

His venomous words catch me off guard and I hesitate for a few seconds until my brain catches up. “Oh, so we’re back to the name calling, are we?” I refuse to be baited. He won’t get a rise out of me just because I’ve bruised his ego by bailing him out of trouble.

Daryl glares at me, his eyes boring holes into me and I’m half surprised my skin isn’t melting with the fire of his fury.

“Fine, you have your little temper tantrum, meanwhile, I’ll will rise above and show you what I managed to snag.” I pull the drugs from my pocket and despite himself he moves closer to see. 

“I told ya, I said it three times, I said ta stay outside.” He steps away, lurching from side to side like he’s trying to burn of his excess anger.

“I know and I heard you but things changed. I calculated the risk and decided it was worth—“

“No! Y’ain’t never ta do it again.” He stops dead and resumes pointing at me.

My jaw drops and I back away from his explosive temper. “Do what? Disobey you? Think for myself? Help you?”

His head shakes and his hand falls to his side. “Y’ain’t never gotta put my safety above yours, d’ya hear me? I’ll find a way out, I can look after m’self.” He clamps his mouth shut and breathes heavily through his nose. “Ya never put yerself in harms way—“

“For Christ sake, Daryl, do you hear yourself? You’re asking me to stand back and do nothing when I can help. How would you feel if the boot was on the other foot, huh? What would you have done—“

“I’da put em down.” He answers without hesitation.

My heart jumps and I lose my courage. “I can’t do that, not unless—“

“What? They had a gun pointed at ma head—“

“They were protecting what was theirs, just like you would, or Rick, or Carol…” I protest weakly.

“But yer alright with lettin’ the walkers do ya dirty work?”

I chew on my bottom lip and rub at the blood on my hands. “I did it my way Daryl. I understand why you’re pissed and yeah, if it came to the crunch and I had no other choice I’d do it, but I’ve got to live with myself at the end of the day, and what I did here leaves me guilt free. God knows I carry enough of it around already. I’m sorry that I didn’t do what you would or that you think I’m weak because I struggle with murder, but that’s just the way it is, that’s just the person I am.”

He mutters something under his breath and closes his eyes for a second. When he reopens them, the storm has passed. “Let’s go, ain’t doin’ no good standin’ here yellin’.”

“There ‘s more medicine inside.”

“Yeah an’ a yard full a walkers too.”

“Nothing we can’t handle.” His gaze zeros in on mine and I shrug. “I’m not just saying it. I’ve three throwing knives, you’ve four bolts, that’s seven down before we even get close.”

“An how many more are in there? How many ya don’t know about attracted by the noise, huh? Ya gotta be smart, use yer head—“

“You’re not talking to one of the Woodbury group, Daryl.”

“No? Cos yer thinkin’ just like ‘em. Tell me, how’d ya stay alive out there?” His face is next to mine, his arm extended behind him pointing to the trees.

I know what he’s getting at. I survived by moving fast, taking what I needed and staying away from danger. “It’s different.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“I’m not just thinking about myself anymore.”

“No, yer not thinkin’ about yerself at all. That’s the problem. Yer thinkin’ that we can’t go back with jus’ two poxy bottles when there’s all that left in there. Yer letting the pressure of the group cloud ya judgement. Ya can’t take anythin’ back if ya get yerself killed or bit.”

“So we leave it all and hope that we can muddle by on a few bottles of vicadin?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what we do.”

Scrubbing my hand over my face I take a steadying breath. “And if someone get’s sick? If I get sick or you do, then what?”

“Then we put together a group an’ we look for what we need.” His anger has abated and he’s no longer raging, but there’s a hardness in his eye. He’s not going to back down. He reaches out and runs his fingers over the back of my hand, testing my reaction. When I don’t pull away, he closes his hand around mine and pulls me a little closer. “I get it, Red, but it ain’t worth risking our lives for somethin’ we don’t need right now. If an’ when we need medication, we can try again but for now, we gotta cut our losses an’ run.”

I sigh deep and long. “I hear you, it’s just… So damn frustrating.”

“Least ya got somethin’.”

I entwine our fingers, looking at my hand pressed against his. Even though I know what he’s saying is right, disappointment still runs though my system. The possibilities that lay inside that building…

He catches my chin and holds my face steady. “Don’t.”

My brows furrow. “What?”

“Don’t dwell on what ya ain’t got. Like I said, y’ain’t goin’ back empty handed, them pills will help someone, you’ll see.”

I force a smile but I can’t make it genuine. Nothing he says will convince me that walking away is a win. “I s’pose we should head back then.” I mutter.

“Mhmm.” 

We trudge slowly to where we’d covered the bike under a stack of branches, both of us weighed down by our failure to procure anything of real worth. In continued silence I help remove the branches and then wait as Daryl hauls the bike up. Fastening his crossbow to it, he grabs the handlebars and starts the engine, twisting to beckon me closer.

I climb on, sitting close to him whilst leaving room between our bodies. With trepidation I lay my hands on his hips, trying to convey that there’s no animosity on my part. I’m glad when he grips my hands and encourages me to curl around him. We’re ready to leave when suddenly he flicks his wrist and turns the key, silencing the bike. A heavy sigh fills the air and rocks our connected bodies.

“Y’ain’t dumb an’ ya ain’t no bitch. I was scared when I saw ya in that buildin’ with them walkers b’hind ya an’ I ain’t used to feelin’ like that.” 

He falls quiet but I’ve nothing to say. I can’t apologize because I know in my heart that what I did was right. I couldn’t have left Daryl to take on both men alone.

“I’m tired a losing people,” he murmurs. “So I got mad as hell when I saw ya bein’ reckless. I don’t mean to get mad with ya, Red, but ya scare me when ya go out the prison alone, when ya puttin’ down walkers, when ya don’t seem to have any kind a regard for ya safety.”

I’m biting on my bottom lip so hard it’s painful. I’d thought he was pissed at me because I’d stepped on his ego but now I can see just how wrong I’d been and how I’d let my arrogance blind me to the fact that Daryl was showing he cared.

Pulling away, I extract myself from his grip and dismount. Standing next to him, I’m unsure of what to do. Instinct is begging me to hug him. To hold him against my body and tell him things will be all right. Licking my lips, I tentatively reach for his hand and link our fingers together. Looking into his clear blue eyes, I see his torment and it winds me slightly.

Finding my breath, I force out words I hope will alleviate his fear. “I do things differently to you, but I never take things lightly. I know what I’m doing, even when you might not understand what that is. Okay, I may have acted impulsively back there but I had every intention of staying safe. I can promise you that I won’t put myself in danger needlessly.”

When Daryl finally speaks, it’ so quiet I have to strain to hear him. “I need ya ta promise that ya won’t ever put my safety over yers again.” 

I exhale and close my eyes knowing that I can’t give him what he wants, what he needs. For his peace of mind he needs me to say it, I know that, but I also know that if push came to shove, I’d sacrifice myself for him. I wouldn’t have to think twice. I would put almost anybody’s life above my own.

“I promise,” I begin slowly, buying myself a moment to think through exactly how I can word what I’m about to say, “I will always stay as safe as I can and that I won’t ever intentionally scare you.”

He let’s out a growl and in a blink he’s stood up straddling the bike. “Ya promise me now, woman. I don’t wanna hear some bullshit about ya tryin’ to stay safe, don’t play games with me.”

Uncomfortable under his intense gaze, I try and pull my hands away only to have them yanked back.

“Daryl please,” I beg, “I can’t make that promise. Call me stupid, selfish, dumb, I don’t care, I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”

“Why in the hell not? I ain’t askin’ ya to save the world for fuck’s sake-- ”

“No, you’re asking for the impossible. I couldn’t walk away from you if you were in danger no more than I could kill those men. It’s not who I am, Daryl. I would sacrifice myself a thousand times for the chance to help you if I had to…”

He drops my hand and swings his leg over the bike to stalk away before turning on his heal and stomping back. Pushing his chest against mine, he glares down at me and snarls viciously, “If I had ta watch ya get bit or die… Ya right, ya bein’ selfish—“

“And so are you!” I yell back at him. “You think you’re the only one who’s scared of those things? If anything happened to you… God damn it Daryl, you’re toxic!” He steps back, his eyes widening and mouth dropping open as my words cut into him. Clearing my throat and lowering my voice I fight against the adrenaline pumping through me. “I survived so long on my own because I didn’t have to live with this fear anymore. I was already dead and there was nothing left for anyone or anything to take from me. Until you and your band of merry men and women. And now, now you’re under my skin and suddenly I feel the terror I used to all over again.” I lay my palm against his cheek, cupping it gently but holding him firm to stop him from running away before he’s heard everything I have to say. “I know you can handle yourself, I’m not stupid, but in this world, even the best of us will fall eventually and I’m so scared that I’m going to have to watch you…” 

I can’t finish my sentence. Daryl has been in my life less than a month and already I’m a trembling, irrational mess. I can’t believe that in such a short space of time I’ve become so dependable on him – no, not dependable -- I’ve become attached, I’ve developed feelings and they’re so much stronger than they have any right to be.

As I pull back my hand and turn away, I become aware of the crushing weight on my chest leaving me gasping for air. I can’t breathe or think straight. My muscles coil and I want to sprint away from the dangerous man behind me who has ambushed my heart and head. I need to get away from him to straighten out my scrambled thoughts, but I can no more leave him than I can, stay. I’m in an impossible position and there’s no way out. 

My lungs are struggling to fill up, my mouth is dry and the bright sun is boiling my insides. I’m going to pass out if I don’t get a handle on things. Rubbing circles on the back of my hand, I concentrate hard on counting backwards from one hundred. Each time I become distracted or forget a number, I start back at the beginning until eventually I’m breathing normally.

“Red…?”

I don’t want to face him but I do. “You’ve made me vulnerable again and I can’t be. I have to stay calm and remain detached. If I’m going to survive I need—“

My breath hitches and my brain finally catches up with my mouth. Clamping a hand over my lips I exhale through my nose. I need Daryl. But how in the hell is this possible? How has he found a way past my protective walls? How did I let him? I should have spotted this coming and shut it down. 

“God damn it Daryl, you’ve made me need _you!_ ” I don’t give him a second thought as I blurt it out, I’m far too horrified at myself. Wanting him physically was something I could understand. But this, this was too much, I was not prepared to develop feelings for someone, let alone someone I just met.

Throughout my breakdown and epiphany, Daryl stares up at me from beneath his hair. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, working the flesh in his mouth as he listens. At no point does he attempt to speak and it’s as maddening as it is a relief. I’m tied up in so many knots I don’t think anything he says will help, but his silence acts like a barrier, distancing us.

I shake my head trying to clear out some of the manic chaos. I need time and space to figure out what the hell I’m doing. 

“Here, take these,” I yank out the bottles of pills and thrust them at him, “I can’t go back yet, you go. Later. I’ll return.” My staccato sentence manages to draw out his voice.

“Ya really never listen’ ta me, do ya? Ain’t I already told ya to stop runnin’ from me?” He knocks the pills aside. “If ya think for one minuet I’m leavin’ ya out here alone, ya batshit crazy. Ain’t goin’ nowhere, sweetheart—“

“You’re killing me.” I protest, begging for his understanding.

“Yeah? Then ya know how I feel.”

My mouth drops open. “What’s the supposed to mean?”

He closes the gap between us and hooks one hand behind my neck and the other around my lower back. Tugging me to his body, his lips catch mine and instead of answering, he kisses me deeply. As our mouths move in rhythm against one another his tongue slides over mine encouraging me to taste him. My god he tastes so good. The way he kisses, slow and deep coaxes me from the darkness and fills me full of unadulterated desire. Dropping the drugs, I give in to my hunger and slip my arms inside his vest, tugging at the zipper of his jacket until I manage to open the leather garment. 

I’m not sure when my brain stopped functioning or when my limbs started to move of their own accord as my hands trace the muscles on his chest, all I know for sure is that this is too good to stop. My nerves are blazing a fire through every inch of my skin and a divine heat gathers in my lower belly. Damn him, one kiss and I’m putty in his hands. 

Any thought I had in my head before his touch has been burnt away in the scorching swell of lust and lies in a pile of ash in the darkest recesses of my mind. There is nothing except Daryl, he is at this moment, everything.

But there’s still too much fabric between us, I need to feel his skin to see if he’s as hot as he makes me. My hands venture lower until I’m able to push his black shirt aside and run my fingertips over his stomach. My breath stutters at the light trail of hair as I trace the pads of my fingers through it. Daryl responds to my touch with a low growl and crushes me even harder against his body, his breathing coming in short gasps as he bruises my mouth. My body reacts in the most primal way as a surge of lust pools between my legs. 

His kiss is starving me of oxygen and making my head spin. If it weren’t for his hands, gripping me so tightly, I’d have lost my balance minutes ago and yet I’m desperate for more. Thankfully so is he. He shows no sign of relenting, far from it. His hands begin to roam my body, squeezing my ass, and pulling my hips to his. We greedily grab at each other desperately, needing to be closer, needing more. There is nothing gentle or sweet in this union, only voracity and hunger driving us on to delve deeper. 

Pressing against him, I feel his arousal, the rigid bulge sending a shudder of excitement through me. But just as quickly as this began, I’m thrown back into my tumultuous thoughts.

In a blind panic, I shove against him and it takes him less than a second to understand my change in mood. He breaks our kiss and stares down at me for a moment, his eyes conveying his fear, trepidation and regret. As I stare into those crystal clear blues, I know for certain that my own eyes reflect the same emotions.

“I’m scared,” I whisper. “I lost it all once, I don’t think I can survive that again. Whether I like it or not, you’re under my skin now and it’s pointless to deny I feel something for you but I wish I didn’t.”

He drops his arms from around me like I’ve burnt him, his face morphing into a mask of disappointment as he backs away carefully. When there’s a decent amount of distance between us, he stuffs his thumb in his mouth and chews on his nail whilst searching the ground for an answer.

“Fuck!” I close my eyes and shake my head. “I don’t know what to say, Daryl. I tried to tell you how damaged I am, I warned you over and over but you wouldn’t listen. Well this is the fallout and I can’t deal with any of it. I just can’t.” My head is throbbing; I’m fighting an internal war against what I want and what I know. 

I want to run to him, to throw caution to the wind and pretend that we live in a world where relationships and romance are free to exist. Only my head and heart know the truth. The fissure left behind by the passing of my family runs through my soul and nothing will ever put the pieces back in alignment. It’s impossible.

I know this. So why when I look at Daryl do I want to open up my heart and welcome him in? Why can’t I ignore his magnetic pull?

He spits out his thumb and watchfully approaches me. Biting his lower lip, he holds out his hand and even though I know I shouldn’t, I take it. His large hand holds mine tightly and his thumb gently caresses my skin. 

“Eden.” My name falls from his lips in a breath that steals my reason. “I don’t care ‘bout how screwed up ya are, cos y’ain’t the only one. I got plenty a problems of ma own. Ain’t good at talkin’, ain’t never really been close ta nobody ‘cept Merle. Don’t know how to be anythin’ other than a backwards redneck from the ass-crack a Georgia.” His intense gaze is scouring the gravel on the road as he refuses to meet my eyes. 

I wait, wondering if he’s going to say anything else but he seems to have finished. “Dar—“ He holds up his hand, signaling me to stop talking so I oblige, tilting my head to the side mutely telling him to go on.

“I dunno nothin’ ‘bout romance or any a that shit, ain’t never had a girl, but I know I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya.” It’s obvious he’s uncomfortable, his cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and he’s picking at the skin around his nails. “When ya with me, when ya kiss me it’s like,” he shrugs, “I got everythin’ I need but I didn’t ask for it to be like that, only ever wanted ta help ya.” He stops and attacks his lip with his teeth in such a frenzy I’m sure he’s going to make it bleed.

“Daryl.” I sigh and it wracks my whole body. I don’t know what to say or do for the best. “I can’t do this.” He lets go of my hand and I rake it through my hair.

“’S alright, “ he mumbles, not letting me finish.

“Shut up and listen… I can’t keep fighting with myself. This thing, this … us, whatever the hell we are, we have to make a decision. Either we are something, or we’re not, I can’t, urgh!” I growl and tug at my hair harder. “If I commit to something, I commit. Once my mind is made up I follow through but this too-ing and fro-ing is killing me, so we’ve got to decide. Are we or aren’t we?”

It’s possibly the most disjointed, ineloquent jumble of words ever to fall from my mouth and I pray that I’ve explained myself well enough for Daryl to understand. If we decide to try and make this into something, then I’ll learn to manage the fear. If we choose to walk away, I’ll leave the prison. Either way it’s make or break time.


	17. Chapter 17

Daryl glances up at me trying to fight the awkwardness, which has settled over us. We’d only shared our first kiss a few hours ago and already here I was forcing us to have ‘the talk’. 

Not knowing what else to do, I make my way to the grass verge and settle down amongst the long, dry vegetation. Picking at a flower, I pull up my knees and wrap my arms around my legs, effectively closing myself off from the world around me, Daryl included.

It would be so much easier if he just left me here, if he walked away from this madness. Sure, I’d be upset but I’d get over it and I could return to my apathetic survival. At least that was easy, there was no fear or complication, just me the undead and scavenging. That was what I was used to, that was what I knew. 

This new life I’d been thrust into at the prison was too foreign and although I’d managed to find my footing there, I was still far from comfortable. I’d been with the group for almost a month, you’d have thought I’d be feeling less like an outsider but in truth, I was just as much a recluse now as I was those first few days, the only difference now was that I could talk to a handful of people without feeling the need to escape.

Peeking through my protective curtain of hair, I wish I could tell what Daryl was thinking. He’s motionless, his back to me and his thumb obviously still wedged between his teeth. 

Jesus, Daryl, decide already.

But maybe I’m being unfair; maybe forcing him to make this decision is the coward’s way out. I swallow hard trying to muster up the courage to make my mind up one way or another. Stay or go. Daryl or apathy. Easy or hard. My choice, my decision.

Daryl spins around slowly, his hand dropping down to his chest as he folds his arms. He’s scowling at me in a way that has me dropping my gaze shamefully.   
“Y’know I ain’t never met nobody as frustratin’ as you.” He states, his tone weary and fed up. “Least I know now why ya such a shitty tracker, ya can’t see what’s right in fronta ya.” With a lift of his shoulders and a roll of his eyes, he steps over and offers out his hand. “C’mon, let’s head back.”

His large hand waits for mine as I try and decipher the meaning behind his words. I want to believe that he’s trying to tell me that we’re doing this, but there’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind laughing at the notion of anyone wanting anything to do with someone as screwed up as me.

Blowing out a breath, Daryl sinks into a crouch in front of me and lays his hands on his knees. “Don’t. Ya don’t always gotta think so hard, sometimes what ya see is what ya get.”

Reading between the lines, I dare to meet his eyes. Despite this being new territory for him, he’s not fearful, he’s holding my gaze steady and calmly. 

“Truth be told, I’m kinda glad you’re losing your shit over this. I thought with ya bein’ married b’fore an all you’d know what ya doin’ an’ I’d be the prick fuckin’ it up all the time.”

I smile unintentionally for a moment before replacing it with yet another frown. “I’m sick of telling you, Daryl, I’m completely broken. There isn’t a part of me that works like it should, like it used to. I’m more messed up than you could hope to understand and it isn’t cute or endearing, it’s psychotic and terrifying… And you say I don’t listen!”

His lips press into a hard line and he nods, as if finally understanding that I’m beyond help.

With a tired resignation I lay my head on my knees and stare out into the distance. “If we carry on together you’ve got to respect that I’m not ever going to get any better than this. I’m not fixable Daryl; I’ve lost too much. You have to accept me as I am or not at all.”

Laying my soul bare to the man I’ve developed feelings for, I get the sense of an almighty weight lifting from my shoulders. Like a fog rolling out to sea my mind clears and I can see myself in all my fucked up glory. Daryl isn’t the only one who has to accept the way I am. I have to stop comparing myself to the person I once was. I have to realise that life isn’t the same now, that I’ve changed and for better or worse, I am what I am. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. 

“We all broken one way or another,” Daryl mumbles before clearing his throat. “I got stuff, demons. I ain’t all fuckin’ sunshine an’ rainbows neither.” He picks at his nails and shrugs. “Dunno what ya wanna hear, Red, I thought a made mysel’ clear. I want ya with me, shit storms an’ an all, don’t care. I tried ta forget ya when ya left an that didn’t work so how’s ‘bout ya hear what I’m sayin’, get your ass on the bike an’ we can go home.”

A slight crease appears between his brows as he says the word home but it’s gone seconds later.

Home. That didn’t sit right. I couldn’t call the prison with its eight-foot high fences and cold concrete walls home but I could settle there. I could commit. 

 

* * *

 

Daryl rode slowly on the journey back allowing me to enjoy the beautiful country views that surrounded us. Eventually he’d come to stop by the side of a river that glistened temptingly under the early afternoon sun. The small lane we’d ridden down led to what must have once been a campsite of sorts. A clearing large enough for half a dozen tents had opened up in front of us, boarded by the forest and river.

Using the excuse of his stomach rumbling Daryl had grabbed his crossbow and told me to stay near the bike whilst he found us something to eat. I’d watched him stalk into the undergrowth with more than a sneaking suspicion that our earlier discussion had left him itching to reaffirm his masculinity, after all, Daryl was not a man who opened up about his feelings easily.

I’d taken off my boots, rolled up my trousers and sat with my feet in the cool water as Daryl had headed into the forest and that’s where I stayed. Laying back on the soft grass, I stared up at the endless cyan sky and allowed my thoughts to drift along on the gentle breeze.

Relaxing in the peaceful surroundings, I hear the distant snarls of walkers from the opposite way Daryl went. They aren’t too far away and from the sounds of it, they’ve found something worth chasing. Sitting up, I grab my socks and boots, quickly stuffing them back on despite my feet still dripping with water. I haven’t had any decent practise with my blades in far too long so there’s no way I’m missing out on this opportunity. Especially given that there’s no one watching me and I can be back long before Daryl even knows I’ve gone anywhere. 

Tying my laces I tilt my head to the side and close my eyes, listening to the noises that appear to be coming closer. Between the groaning and the dead crashing through the tees I can make out voices roughly calling out instructions. There are people out there. This stops me in my tracks. They might need my help but if my past experiences are anything to go by it’s more likely that they’ll throw me to the walkers to aid their escape.

Checking over my shoulder, I make sure Daryl’s bike is hidden, he’d lose his mind if I abandoned it and let someone else take it. Thankfully it’s out of sight. The strangers draw nearer so I slip into the trees to my right and take cover, hanging around just in case it turns out to be someone who genuinely needs help.

In seconds I’ve scrambled into the branches of a large tree and climbed high enough to have a decent view of the whole clearing. Hugging the trunk, I watch with keen eyes as the foliage opposite me trembles and spits out a group of three men and one woman. They back away from the advancing herd, unknowingly closing the gap between us with each step and I notice the woman’s hands are bound. My stomach churns uneasily at the sight of the ropes around her wrists.

The men, all in their thirties, each brandish hunting knives but the young woman is unarmed. Shoving her in front of them, they use her as a shield and I get a good look at her face as she stares over her shoulder at the cowards hiding behind her. She can’t be more than twenty, hardly even a woman at all. 

Fire burns in my veins at the scene playing out. The men obviously have no qualms about using this defenceless girl as walker bait and their spinelessness licks at my anger. I don’t dwell on it though, there isn’t time as a large group of walkers burst out of the forest. 

Scooting down the tree, I launch myself to the ground and fly out into the horde of undead. The herd is large, possibly even more than I can handle, but I don’t hesitate or allow myself to think. Instead, I hear the music in my head, the swell of violins and the melody of the piano directing my dance.

I take down the first three walkers easily, their bodies so old and rotted that my knives slices through them as easily as hot butter. The next two stumble towards me, teeth gnashing and arms outstretched. Dodging away from them, I accidentally spin towards the girl, narrowly missing her with the tip of my blade. 

“Move!” I growl but she doesn’t. 

I try again. “Get out of the way!” I call, landing a fatal blow to a walker on my left. As it drops down, my blade is tugged from my hand. It’s embedded in the skull and isn’t coming out without a fight. Slamming my boot against its head I keep my other knife high for protection and pull hard, stumbling as it dislodges.

In the melee, three more walkers have slipped past me and are heading straight for the girl. I act quickly but it’s not quick enough and her scream pierces the air as they sink their teeth into her supple flesh. 

I want to help her or at least put her out of her misery but there isn’t time. There are still at least a dozen walkers to fend off and the three men are doing very little in way of helping. They’ve backed to the far side of the clearing, their own knives raised but none of them have acted yet. Instead they’re waiting to see f I can handle the remaining dead.

I can’t. Despite my training, there are just too many of them. I spin and slice but they’ve circled me and are cluttering up the floor, interrupting my steps. I can’t concentrate; my ears are full of the slurping and crunching of the walkers gorging themselves on the girl, who is still alive and screaming. The soundtrack of her slow agonising death, distracting and disgusting me. 

As a rotting corpse lunges for me, it trips on the arm of another and I leap back to escape it’s grasping hand, only to have a third grab my boot and yank. I kick impotently, unable to lower my blades for fear of leaving myself open to the other five waiting on the sideline, but it doesn’t relinquish its grip.

Ignoring the thing attacking my foot, I swing my right hand around whilst sliding my left knife away and grabbing a throwing blade. Unleashing it into the nearest walker, I repeat the action twice more, buying myself a little more time as three more undead are disposed of.

My attention is pulled back to the snapping jaws of the thing by my feet. It has used my leg as leverage and pulled itself over the pile of bodies and is worrying close to my calf. Taking my eyes from the walkers closing in on me, I stab the one trying to make me luch. It falls limply and I land on top of it as I duck to avoid the lunging grab of another. With a heave I roll onto my back just in time to raise my blade and spear the massive thing lumbering down on top of me. It lands heavily, knocking the wind out of my lungs and pinning me in between the mangled corpses of it’s fallen herd.

Only then do I hear the men come to life. I can’t see for the grotesque body lying on top of me but I listen carefully as I try and fail to extract myself from the bodies and limbs around me. By now the girl has ceased her screams and I sigh in relief just in time to catch the thud of the last body dropping to the floor. 

Suddenly we’re engulfed in silence and it’s deafening. Lying still, I collect my composure and swallow back the fear and claustrophobia of being entombed in a pile of rotting cadavers.

“Did it get her?” One of the strangers asks.

“Hope not, we need a replacement for her.” A second grumbles.

They’re close now, and I know I should move to rearm myself only I wait instead, praying that they’ll think I’m dead and just move on. My heart is beating so hard from the exertion and panic I’m sure they’ll see it. 

“Don’t move!” My heart soars and I close my eyes as Daryl’s gruff voice fills the area.

“Hey man, we don’t want no trouble.”

I can imagine Daryl surveying the area, taking it all in and putting two and two together. Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the stench coming from the corpses around me, I shove against the giant pinning me down.

“Where is she?” Daryl snarls. “Where’s the woman with the blades?”

“What woman, weren’t no woman, just us.”

“Ya lying sack a shit!” Daryl growls just as I work my arm free and wave it back and forth.

“I’m here. I can’t get out!”

“Drop the knife an’ help her.” Daryl calls. “I said drop it unless ya want me split ya skull… Try it, ya won’t get anywhere near close enough.” 

The menacing edge in his voice sends a sliver of ice running down my spine. Grunting I push against the walker again but he still doesn’t budge. 

“Alright buddy, I dropped my weapon…” The voice that speaks is close. “Come on, honey, let’s get you out of there.” It says with a phony sweetness and I wheeze as suddenly I can breathe again. 

The man groans as he works hard to pull the body that had been crushing me to one side, dropping it back into place as I manage to wriggle free. Diving away, over the blood, guts and gore, I pluck one of my throwing knives from the skull of a walker and hold it in front of me along with my long blade.

“C’mere Red.” Daryl has his crossbow and heckles up, and he glowers thunderously at the men stood around the bodies.

Walking backwards to keep the strangers in my sight, I glance down at the mess on the floor where the girl lay. Her dead eyes stare up in eternal horror; her body has been torn to shreds.

“You bastards!” I spit, still retreating to Daryl’s side. “You watched them do that to her. She was unarmed and bound and you miserable, heartless shits just stood by and watched.”

As I reach Daryl, he moves in front of me, blocking me from their view.

“Ya bit?” he hurries to ask quietly, keeping his eyes glued on the men.

“No—“

“Ya hurt?”

“No. I’m alright, just winded.”

Daryl nods and I see some of the tension in his shoulders ease. “Ya got ten seconds to grab yer shit an go.” He shouts, indicating with his weapon for them to turn around and head back the way they came.

“No can do amigo, see, we lost something here and we’re going to need a replacement.” The man closest explains. “An’ from how I see it, there’s three of us and one of you. I doubt you can reload that thing quick enough to take us all down—“

“Maybe. Maybe not. Can definitely put down one a yer though.”

Sliding my long blade away I move to stand by his side and gently withdraw his hunting knife from its sheath. Holding it up in one hand and my throwing blade in the other I stare from man to man. “And that makes three. Please, try it. Give me a reason to wipe your sorry ass off the face of the earth. God knows you deserve it.”

“Leave it Jay, we’ll find another.” One of the men mutters.

“Yeah, alright. She don’t look like the type we need anyway.” The man who moved the walker off me sneers.

“Ten…” Daryl barks, “nine… eight…”

The men pick up their knives and after once last glare, take off into the woods leaving us alone with a small field full of the dead. Daryl waits a few minutes then stalks across the clearing and follows them, remerging a few minutes later with a nod. “They’re gone.”

Turning away, I find the nearest tree and sink to the roots, resting my back heavily against the bark on the trunk. It’s almost painful as it scratches against my skin through my jacket I’m leaning against it so hard. I can still hear the girl’s screams echoing through the empty space and it drives a chill up my protesting spine. How could they just watch?

As I relieve the horror Daryl reappears next to me, gently laying all my knives out on the floor. He must have collected them on his way past the massacre.

“Thanks.”

Sliding down the tree, he joins me, his body so close we’re touching from shoulder to thigh. It’s reassuring and helps me relax somewhat.

“Ya sure yer alright?”

As my eyelids grow heavy, I lay my head against his shoulder and blink. “I’m fine, no cuts, no bites, maybe a few bruises though.”

“What happened? Heard a scream an’ high tailed it back to this.” He points to the clearing, his arm waving under my nose.

Putting my hand on his bicep I push his arm down. It falls into my lap where he squeezes my thigh. 

“They were being chased by the herd. They came running out of the forest over there and shoved the poor girl in front of them. Didn’t bother arming her, they just used her as bait. She never stood a chance, she couldn’t do anything with her wrists bound and those bastards pointing their knives at her back. I did what I could but there were too many walkers. I couldn’t manage alone.”

“Alone?”

“Oh yeah. They stood and watched, even when they could have saved her, they watched as the walkers chewed her up and waited for me to clear the rest. Only I couldn’t. When I got trapped I’m guessing the last ones headed in their direction, otherwise they wouldn’t have done a thing.”

“Fuckin’ good fer nothin’ poxy-ass pricks! Shoulda cut ‘em up and left em for the next bunch a walkers.” Daryl growls, his grip on my thigh a little too tight for comfort.

Looking down at his hand I catch sight of at myself and curl my lip up in disgust. “Jesus, look at me.” I’m decorated with gore. Crimson stains my jeans and flesh and chunks of flesh decorates my jacket.

“’S fine, none if it’s yers.”

I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. “No, I need to wash it off.” 

”Alright.” Daryl grumbles as he stands. He then leans down, tucks his hands under my arms and drags me up. Instead of releasing me, he holds me against his body, hugging me tight. It can’t be nice for him, I’m covered in shit and I stink but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

Snaking my arms around his narrow hips, I collapse gratefully against his muscled chest and closing my eyes, squeeze him tightly. After a few moments, I break our embrace, my stomach is struggling to ignore the rotting stench emanating from my clothes. Taking his hand, we walk slowly to the riverside.

“Did you catch anything?” I ask.

“Nah, was on the trail of a rabbit but…”

“Never mind.’ I sigh, shedding my jacket and dipping it into the running water. After a few seconds I pull it out, happy to see it clean, and lay it out in the sun to dry.

“Hope you’re not shy.” I offer dryly as I pull off my clothes and strip to my underwear.

“What the hell, Red?” Daryl’s eyes widen as I toss my top to the side, and he glances around nervously.

I can’t help the tiny laugh as I watch his reaction. “Seriously? After everything that’s happened today _this_ is what makes you anxious?” Taking a breath I wade into the chilly water until it reaches my waist. 

Daryl chews on his lip, opens his mouth to say something and then changes his mind and goes back to worrying his lip.

I work fast, the water a little too cold for my liking. Rinsing my jeans, I dip my head below the water and let out the breath I’m holding as the gunk washes out of my hair. By the time I’m back on the riverbank, I’m shivering but thankfully clean.

“Ya cold.” Daryl states with a scowl, looking at my skin as it rises in goose bumps. Slinging his vest to the floor, he shrugs out of his jacket and throws it around me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

Pushing the dripping hair off my face, I stare up at the man I was so ready to walk away from and study his face. He’s a walking contradiction. He’s rough yet gentle, he’s cruel but kind. 

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” I offer timidly.

He looks down at me, confusion written all over his gorgeous face.

“Us.” I clarify.   
“Oh.” His eyes search the area as if he’s looking for a clue to tell him the right thing to say.

“It’s okay Daryl, you don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know. I’m glad we didn’t walk away. I’m glad you didn’t give up on me.”

His gaze snaps to mine and stops rubbing my arms to capture my chin. “Ain’t you who should be grateful, Red. It’s me. Ya givin’ me somethin’ I never thought I could have, never thought I deserved.”

“You deserve more than I can give, you deserve everything, Daryl.” I sigh with despondency.

A small smile hitches the corner of his mouth upwards as his eyes shine brightly and before my eyes his face morphs into that of a much younger man. Gone are the worry lines and cautiousness in his gaze, in their place he looks relaxed and at ease with himself and the world.

“I got everythin’,” he says softly, running his thumb pad over my bottom lip. “’cos I got you.”


	18. Chapter 18

It's been a long day. Too much has happened and my scrambled brain is struggling to process it all. From the kisses to the clinic and riverside, there’s so much to think about it’s making my brain ache.

The early evening light is soft and the heat of the day dies away leaving a gentle spring breeze to kiss at my exposed skin. Wearing some shorts Maggie had found for me, my bare legs dangling over the side of the prison. In my hand I cradle my bottle of whiskey, enjoying a long slug as I ignore the insects buzzing around my head. It’s a beautiful evening, one that would usually calm my soul, except tonight I’m too bent out of shape after the days events to fully appreciate natures beauty. So I drink, drink to forget as my uncle used to joke when he’d make his annual visit. 

 

Daryl had gone to a council meeting when we'd got back and I’d been left to stew in my ceaseless, mangled thoughts. He must have told them about our day because although I’ve not seen him since our return Carol and Hershel, both apparently stopping by just to say hello, have visited me. I called bullshit both times and whilst Hershel had told me to mind my language he'd stuck to his original story. 

 

Actually, I’d enjoyed his visit. Something about the older man soothes me. Maybe it’s his thick accent or gentle tone, maybe it’s his unique eloquence, whatever it was though, had led me to lay my head on his shoulder and thank him for coming to see me.

 

Carol’s visit had been an entirely different affair.

 

She'd been angry with me. Furious even. She’d checked me over and then lectured me about my inability to "do what was needed". She'd bit into me, berating me for not putting down the men who were threatening Daryl’s life. She’d yelled loudly about what she would have done had anything happened to him or me before going on and on about how we'd have an arsenal of drugs if I'd had the courage to “remove the threat”. She'd then followed that with the crushing blow that had I have acted on instinct at the river, there was a chance the girl would have survived.

 

What makes it worse is knowing she's right. Everything she said makes complete sense but even now, if I had to do it all again, I’m sure I’d make the same choices. And so I drink. Drink to forget, or at least try to.

 

Raising the bottle to my lips, I chug the expensive liquid in greedy mouthfuls, praying that it will take effect soon. With any luck I'll pass out and the sickening thoughts haunting me will let up for a few precious hour.

 

Far below the residents of the prison are milling around. Whilst we've been gone they've managed to clear a good percentage of the walkers at the fence and the general spirit of the place is high. In the yard there's a BBQ cooking an array of small animals and I'm sure that there's alcohol flowing by the way the group are growing louder and happier.

 

I can see Sasha. She's sat next to Bob and they appear to be chatting easily. Not too far away, Beth bounces Judith on her knee, Carl next to her, tickling his young sister. One by one, I spy everyone I know. They all seem relaxed and the normalcy of the scene only serves as a reminder of how different I am in this new world.

Another mouthful of the liquor slides down my throat and with it a little more of my trepidation. I’ve committed to this place; I belong here just as much as the next person. Okay, I’m not the most talkative here but thankfully people here accept that. For the most part they’ve stopped trying to get me to open up so there’s really no reason for me being up here alone. Another mouthful later and my mind is made up. 

I wobble slightly as I stand, the whiskey playing with my sense of balance and causing me to lean dangerously over the side of the building. Stretching out my arms, I manage to regain control and stumble towards the door to the stairwell, a slight giggle leaving my lips as I go. 

Tipping the bottle up, I assess the amount I’ve had to drink. The amber liquid inside the glass, sloshes at the bottom and there can’t be more than a shot left in there. With a shrug I toss the rest back and empty the bottle, resting it on a step when I’ve finished.

Gripping hold of the rail, I gingerly make my way down the stairs. For some reason it’s taking my eyes a little longer than normal to adjust to the gloom and I find myself tripping over my feet more than once.

“The hell are ya doin’, Red? Ya tryin’a get yerself killed?” Daryl’s gravelly voice echoes off the walls and I glance around trying to see him. He sounds pissed but what’s new?

“I’m coming to join the party.” I tell the darkness, still unable to see him. Rounding the corner to the last flight of steps, I squeak as I fall directly into his open arms having once again fallen over my sluggish feet.

“Ya drunk?”

I whip my head back and forth, shaking it with vehemence. “I am not. I’m just a little buzzed.” 

“Like hell y’are, ya wasted.”

I manage to pull myself upright and rest my hands on my hips. “Wasted? This is not me wasted.” I roll my eyes which sets the world spinning a little faster on it’s axis and I have to grip the rail to steady myself. “I am not entirely sober, I’ll give you that much, but I just need some food. Haven’t eaten since breakfast and the little drop of whiskey I had to settle my nerves has maybe, _maybe_ , affected me a bit more than it should.”

I still can’t see his face properly through the darkness but his tone fills in the blank. “Jesus, look at the state a ya.” He sighs.

“The _state_ of me?” I shriek. “The _state_ of me? You make it sound like I’m a raging alcoholic. Get a damn grip Daryl, I’ve had one drink for god’s sake.”

“Bullshit. One bottle more like.”

“Y’know what?” I huff, spinning around and trying my best to stomp back up the stairs that insist on dancing around under my lead feet. “Screw you. I was coming down to join in the festivities but obviously I’m better on my own.”

I don’t get very far though. Daryl is at my side and seizes my arm holding me in place before I make it to the next flight of stairs.

“Get off.”

“Ya damn well almost killed yerself a moment ago. Saw ya nearly fall off the roof, ain’t dumb enough to let ya back up there ‘till ya sober.”

“’Cos you all know what’s better for me than I do, right? ‘Cos you’re all so god damn wonderful and perfect.” I spit venomously.

“The hell ya talkin’ ‘bout now?” 

Trying to order my thoughts is like swimming through molasses. I’m a hot mess and getting nowhere fast. “You couldn’t wait to run your mouth at the meeting could you? Tell them all about my giant fuck ups. Like I didn’t already know it was all on me.”

“Ya talkin’ in damn riddles, woman.”

“Carol!” I shout, struggling against his grip. “Hershel. I expect Glenn will show up soon, right?”

“Wha’?” He moves to grip my other arm and walks me back so I’m pinned against the wall. He knows what he’s doing. The concrete against my back is unforgiving and scrapes whenever I wriggle, I have no choice but to stop fighting him unless I want to tear up my back.

“I don’t need lectures like I’m a child. If you don’t agree with how I do things, don’t take me on runs with you. You don’t have to blab to the council and have them scold me like a god damn naughty kid.”

“They did what?” He’s angry and I can just about make out his eyes glinting dangerously.

“Carol was all kindsa pissed at me for letting the side down and putting you in danger. Twice. Told me to grow up and wake up. Like I’m a damn child.” I swat as his arms but miss. 

“Ya really think—“ He looks at me and sighs again. “Never mind. C’mon, ya need food. Soak up some a that whiskey b’fore ya do somethin’ else dumb.”

“Thing is,” I push away from the wall when he releases me, “she’s right isn’t she? I should have killed them. I should have killed the dad and his boys.” In my minds eye I see the father from years ago that I’d been ordered to kill. He’s on his knees begging for the mercy of his children. I shake my head, willing the vision to clear. It doesn’t. 

“Nah,” Daryl drawls, his hand coming up to cup my face. “Ya you, ya do things yer own way. Don’t make it wrong.”

“Doesn’t make it right.” 

“Yer arguing fer the sake of it ‘cos ya drunk.” He lets out a small, quiet laugh.

“Not drunk enough.”

“Why?”

I scowl into the gloom unsure if he can see me or not. “I can still remember. Drink to forget, that’s what Uncle Dan used to say. So no, I’m not drunk enough. I can still remember everything.”

“Good.”

“No it’s not. I don’t want to remember—“

“Yeah ya do. If ya forget ya gonna make the same mistakes again.”

I contemplate his logic. He’s right. Learn from your mistakes, isn’t that what they say? 

“I’m out of whiskey.” I pout, wishing I had another drink.

“’S’not a bad thing.” Daryl chuckles.

“You’re laughing at me.” I’m beginning to think that maybe I am a little less sober than I’d originally thought. Reaching out, I grope around, searching for the handrail only it’s nowhere to be found.

“Red?”

Ignoring Daryl, I narrow my eyes and peer through the dark, hunting for the dull silver of the banister but seeing nothing. I know it’s there though, I’ve used it often enough. Shuffling forward I wave my arms until my hand hits something solid. Closing my fingers around it, I note the way it feels wrong and frown. It’s hard, warm and rough, not smooth, cold and polished as it should be. Pushing both hands against the object I move them around trying to decipher exactly what it is in front of me. 

“Re—“

“Shush! I’m concentrating. There’s something—“

“It’s me! You’re grabbin’ me.”

Flattening out my fingers, I run my hands up and down, laughing as Daryl flips open his lighter and a tiny flame illuminates us. 

“It is you.” I grin looking at my hands pressed against his chest. 

He tilts his head to the side and rolls his eyes. “Ya gonna kill yerself tryina walk, the state yer in.” With a small huff of amusement he pockets the lighter, shrouding us in darkness again. 

“No, I can’t see, bring back—oof.”

Strong arms manipulate me and the next thing I know I’m draped over Daryl’s shoulder, half hanging down his back.

“Ya puke on me an’ I’ll kill yer myself,” he growls as he sure-footedly walks down the last of the steps.

I open my mouth to reply only to hiccup and laugh. Maybe I shouldn’t have emptied the bottle after all. Grabbing hold of his hips, I rest my chin on the middle of his back and stare at nothing whilst I wait for him to get us where we need to be.

“Daryl…”

He grunts and it brings a smile to my lips. 

“Wanna know a secret?”

“What?” He sounds bored. He probably thinks I’m just another dumb broad who can’t handle her liquor… Well, he’s not entirely wrong. 

“Not all scars can be seen.” I let go of his hips as we turn into the corridor leading outside and I can finally see something. My grin grows larger and I lay my hands on his firm, tempting ass and squeeze. 

“Red.” He warns in a low voice.

Instead of heading outside, Daryl cuts through the communal area and heads to the cells, climbing up the iron steps to the top row. I suddenly realise where he’s taking me. He’s going to dump me in the cell they’d assigned me when I first got here. Panic and claustrophobia wash over me and I begin to shudder in anticipation.

“Oh god, no, no! I can’t stay in here, please. Don’t do this—“

He throws me gently down onto a mattress, his hands moving quickly to my face. “Red, look at me, yer alright. It’s jus’ one night.”

“No!”

“Hey. Hey!” He pushes his face to mine, our foreheads touching. My hands find his shoulders and grasp onto the material of his top as my body trembles violently.

“Please, Daryl. I can’t stay in here, the walls are closing in, I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry, Red, can’t let ya up on the roof ‘till ya sober. Can’t risk ya hurtin’ yerself.”

My throat is tightening, constricting my airways and forcing tears into my eyes. I claw at my top, trying to gain a little room around my neck, but it doesn’t help. 

“Red, ya need t’ calm down. Ya alright, ain’t nothin’ bad gonna happen t’ ya in here.”

By now I’m gasping noisily and my nails are leaving nasty red welts along my neck as I try to loosed the imaginary bind choking me. With his eyes darting around nervously, Daryl pins my hands to the bed.

“Listen ta me, ya fine. ‘S okay, ya don’t need to panic.”

The struggle I’m putting up is only making things worse. I thrash on the bed, kicking and bucking to try and get free but I’m going nowhere fast. Tears are leaking from the corners of my eyes now, leaving hot, searing tracks down my red cheeks. I’m going to pass out, I’m going to die.

“Daryl what’s goin’ on?” Hershel appears at the doorway, limping in as fast as he can to stare down at me in horror.

“Out,” I wheeze, “I need out.”

“She’s having a panic attack.” Hershel says softly, moving to one side. “Take her outside, get her some fresh air.”

“She’s drunk.” Daryl retorts.

“Then get her water too but you have to take her outside. Bein’ in here is only exacerbating her condition.”

It’s clear Daryl doesn’t understand what’s happening but he follows the older mans instructions anyway. Scooping me off the bed, he hurries outside and carries me away from the impromptu party happening out front.

Finding a quiet corner he sits me gently against the wall and steps back to look down on me. Angrily wiping at my tears with the heel of my palm, I scowl and curl in on myself. I’d made a fool of myself yet again. 

“’M sorry, Red, I di—“

“Leave me alone.” I snarl, my voice hoarse and cracking. I’m ashamed of myself, of showing weakness again for the third time today, there’s no way I can listen to him apologising for something that wasn’t his fault.

He dances on the spot, unsure of what to do. “I didn’t mean ta upset ya.” He mumbles awkwardly.

“You didn’t.” I snap, pissed off with myself but taking it out on him. 

“’S alright, ya don’t have ta—“

“The cells, they remind me of something that happened long ago. Something awful.” I blurt out, trying to get him to shut up. “It wasn’t you, it’s that.” Resting my head on my knees I throw my arms over my head and rock gently back and forth. 

“Shoulda listened.” Daryl murmurs, sitting down next to me and pulling me into his arms. He holds me in my curled up position, his head resting lightly on top of mine.

“Yeah.” I agree flatly, loosening my posture to lean against his chest.

I’m trapped in the solitude of my memories and the comfort of Daryl’s embrace and we stay like this as the stars fight against the fading light for dominance. Only when the moon has found its place in the sky do I relax my arms and shoulders, wriggling into a more comfortable position. All the while, Daryl wordlessly holds me, seeming to understand that his presence is the only thing I need from him right now.

The party around the other side of the prison has quietened with most people heading inside to bed. As the noise of the people dies I listen to the sounds of nature, and of course, the distant groans of the dead.

“I’ll be fine on the roof now. I’m as sober as a judge.” I break the silence and allow myself to wrap my arms around Daryl. 

“Alright.”

“Sorry.”

“Ya don’t have ta be sorry, ya done nothin’ wrong.”

“Well, that’s true if you don’t count the clinic, the river and what happened back there.”

Daryl shifts us so he’s able to hook a finger under my chin and look into my eyes. “Mean it, Eden, ya done nothin’ wrong t’day.”

I let out a breath as he says my name. The oddity of hearing it aloud at war with the pleasure of it falling from Daryl’s lips. 

“I like that you know my real name and that you don’t use it often. You’re the only person alive who knows it.” I whisper, caught in his gaze.

He stares at me, his pupils growing larger as he listens to me speak. “Y’ain’t told no one else?”

I shake my head.

“Why not?”

Chewing my bottom lip, I lower my eyes to look at his chest. “It’s the only thing of the old me I have left I guess. I don’t feel like sharing it with anyone else, I want to keep it private, locked away. If they don’t know my real name then they can’t ever really know me, and that makes me feel… safe.”

His breathing has changed. It’s deeper and faster but he’s trying hard to cover it. “So why’d ya tell me?” His voice catches and he clears his throat.

“I don’t know. I didn’t plan on it, but you,” god this is hard. “You’re under my skin. When I told you, it just slipped out because I feel,” I shrug, “like I can trust you no matter what. I don’t trust anyone else, not Carol or Sasha or Maggie or Hershel, none of them, not like this. I can’t … damn it.” I drag my gaze back to his. His face is soft and he’s looking at me with a tenderness that disarms my brain. “I’m not scared to be open with you. It’s hard because I don’t know _how_ to be open, but I’ll never dodge your questions like I do everyone else because I trust you. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone else.” Maybe the alcohol is still in my system because I doubt I’d be so frank if I were completely sober.

He swallows as his eyes roam my face. “More than yer husband?”

My head tilts as I consider this. “It’s different. The world is different and I’m different. You’re asking me to compare apples and oranges, but… In a way, yeah. Took me a long time to open up with Nick and even then I held some things back. He never knew about …. He was a great man and a wonderful husband but if I met him now, he’d run a mile because he couldn’t handle someone as ruined as me, so yeah, I’d shy away, I’d keep it all in. He’d be in there, life and soul of the party,” I nod towards the prison, “and I’d be out here, hiding in the shadows. Where I belong.”

Daryl’s eyes flash with a burning emotion I can’t place but he’s quick to adjust his mask. Before I can figure out what he’s thinking, he moves behind me, pulling me around so that my back rests against his chest and his bent legs cushion my arms.

“I was nothin’ b’fore all this. I followed Merle around, tryina keep him outa trouble best I could. Weren’t exactly ya friendly neighbour types, y’know?” He has one hand draped around me, and he’s absently fiddling with my shirt buttons. His other is being gnawed on as he bites his thumb. “Ain’t never been the type to be trusted. If we’d met b’fore you’da probably crossed the street ta avoid me. But none a that matters now. We ain’t livinin the past, things’ve changed. Ya gotta change to survive, ya gotta be different.”

I lay my hand on his and we automatically link our fingers. It’s a small gesture but one that means so much more than just two people holding hands. He’s telling me that he understands me and I’m showing him I trust him.

“I was Eden Jasmine Wright. Born in Germany to Patricia and Sergeant Frank Day. My dad left the military not long after I came along and we moved back to the states. I lived a normal life for the most part, Dad died when I was ten, wasn’t exactly a loss. I grew up, went to college, met Nick, got married… Had a baby. I worked in a small gallery as curator; I enjoyed showcasing up and coming artists the most. Discovering new talent gave me a thrill. Always dreamt of moving to New York city, working in one of the larger galleries there.” A wry smile creeps onto my lips. “And now I’m living in a prison with a bunch of people I find it hard to be around, but it’s okay, I’m okay because I found someone to trust. Someone who pretty much knows everything there is to know about me now.” I’m glad he can’t see my burning face as I try and ignore my embarrassment at spilling my guts. It left me uncomfortable and awkward but the need to prove to Daryl exactly how much I trust him outweighs any discomfort.

His arm pins me to him tightly and he rubs his thumb against the back of my hand. Leaning his head down, he nestles in the crook of my neck and slips his other arm around my waist. 

“Think I might sleep on the roof t’night, if that’s alright with ya?” he breathes softly, his breath fanning my cheek. “Wanna keep an eye on ya, make sure ya don’t wander off the side of the building or nothin’”

I sink back against him, relaxing into his hold. “It’s more than alright,” I chuckle. “I appreciate you looking out for my safety.”

He’s full of shit but I play along with his game knowing how hard he finds it to admit his feelings. Besides, I want to spend more time with him. The craving to get closer to this man is only growing stronger so why fight it? In his strong arms, I let go of the day’s tension and stare up at the inky sky. The stars shine down on us, watching over our intimate moment and adding to my growing sense of serenity. What ever it is about this man that makes me trust him so implicitly has me falling for him in a way that is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Oh god. I’m not _falling_ for him!

With a sickening realisation I close my eyes. I’m already past falling; I was just so caught up in myself that I didn’t see it sooner. Falling implies love is on the horizon, but for me, Daryl was already well and truly settled in my heart. I’m not developing feelings for him; I’m already in love.

Shit.


	19. Chapter 19

I hardly slept last night, instead I tossed and turned trying to decide how I felt about falling for Daryl. I glanced over at him often, watching him sleep on the cot he’d set up at the other side of the shelter. He’d settled down quickly, his breathing evening out as sleep welcomed him. He looked peaceful in slumber and more than once I’d been tempted to walk the five paces between us and join him. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. So I’d waited, for sleep or sunrise, which ever came first.

As soon as the sky had begun to lighten I’d silently collected my knives and headed down to the main gate. There weren’t that many walkers left outside, ten maybe twelve at a push, certainly nothing I couldn’t handle. I was hoping that some early morning exercise with my trusty blades might help clear my thoughts.

When Nick had died I’d just accepted the fact that I would never love again. How could I? In a world as messed up as this how could I even contemplate meeting someone and developing any sort of connection deep enough? And yet it had happened. And I couldn’t fathom how it had happened, how I’d let my guard down so completely to let him in. I’d been so careful in the last three years, avoiding people, avoiding emotion, and avoiding living. I’d been so cautious when I’d come to the prison, keeping my distance from them all, except him. 

Now I was completely and utterly vulnerable because of him. And he didn’t even know it. 

Turning right at the gate I head for the tied gap in the fence. It’s the only way in or out when you’re alone. Thankfully there are no walkers near here and I escape the protection of the fence without issue.

My boots are noiseless, cushioned by the thick dry grass under foot and as I’m swallowed by the dense trees, I relax knowing that the rabble by the east side of the prison won’t have a clue I’m there until it’s too late. Swinging my blades loosely, I listen to the slight whoosh as they cut through the air. It mingles with the leaves overhead and the occasional scurry on the forest floor as a mouse or squirrel runs away. It’s so tranquil out here. If it wasn’t for the threat of stray walkers attracted by the noise of the prison I’d set up camp here outside those god awful fences. Crossing the road, which leads to the main gate I glance at the imposing building, far enough away that it doesn’t send a shudder through me. It’s ugly, but it’s my sanctuary now, whether I like it or not. As long as Daryl stays there, so will I.

Shaking my head I can’t believe my incredulous thoughts. Yesterday I’d believed myself ready to see him walk away. I’d thought I’d be able to pick myself up and carry on if he’d left me behind… Delusional, that’s what I was. 

Sneaking out of the tree line, I approach the group of undead slowly. They pay me no attention, too focussed on the food beyond the fence. Steadying my breath, I exhale and raise my blades. The music commences and I begin my dance along the perimeter. I take extra care when placing my feet, refusing to be caught out again like I was yesterday. I won’t ever make that mistake again. 

As the last body falls to the floor, I spin the blades to point behind me and survey the mess. I’m covered in blood and surrounded by ten rotting corpses. 

“What a pretty picture.” I sigh, cleaning my blades and sliding them away. 

“Want some help?” Michonne makes me jump as she speaks from behind me. Whirling around I see her pointing at the walkers. “Should burn them before they stink the place out.”

“Yeah.” I nod, eager to stay outside for a while longer.

“I’ll go get the trailer, you want to get the gate?”

“Gladly.” 

We get to work and once again I find myself enjoying her company. She’s friendly without being overly chatty and she never pushes me if I make it clear I don’t want to talk about something.  
Between us we dispose of the walkers before most of the prison are awake. As we drive back to the gate, I see Daryl leaning against the entrance, waiting for us. Once we’re inside, I hop out of the jeep and wave Michonne on.

“Ya runnin’ away again?” Daryl says tersely.

“Thought about it but Michonne’s blade is bigger than mine so didn’t want to argue.” I joke.

His eyes darken as he looks me up and down.

“It was a joke.” I explain, walking closer. 

“Weren’t funny,” he replies softly.

I bite my lip, eyeing him warily. “Sorry…” He rubs the back of his neck and squints over at the trees. “You know I’m here for good right?” I ask.

He shrugs and chews on his lip.

“Daryl? Were you not listening last night?”

His eyes meet mine and flash with doubt. “Ya was drunk.”

“I wasn’t _that_ drunk.” Heat colours my cheeks and I flush as it occurs to me that everything I thought had passed between us last night might have only happened in my head. “I remember every word.” I mutter, gritting my teeth and slamming the fence closed.

“That why ya left b’fore I woke?”

I scowl, leaning against the fence for support. “No, I left because I realised something and I had to process it in my own way.”

“Huh.” He snatches a cigarette pack out of his pocket and rests one between his lips. “Ya realised ya made a mistake.” It’s a statement, not a question that has me rounding on him. The expression on his face is a mix of pain and regret and it strikes me that for once this is about him and not me. 

“No.” I say firmly but keeping my tone level. “I meant every single thing I said last night, all of it. I’m sorry I was gone when you woke but I needed to get up and do something physical to help me get out of my head for a while, y’know?” Tentatively I push up and take a step closer, watching his reaction carefully. He’s uncertain and showing his nerves in the way he can’t keep still as he smokes his cigarette. Cocking my head to the side, I stare at his hand and wonder how he’d react to me reaching out for it. “These feelings… I’m not used to it all anymore and I just needed a little time to breathe.”

He lowers his head allowing his hair to fall into his face and obscure it from my view. He’s embarrassed. With a slight furrow of my brow, I brave the silence to try and relieve some of his discomfort.

“I’ve been on my own, I mean, _completely_ alone for the best part of two maybe three years. Sure I found the odd person here and there but they never lasted or stuck around because I wouldn’t let them, because I couldn’t handle it. And now here I am, with you, like _this_ … It’s a lot to wrap my head around so I took a moment.”

Edging closer I slowly raise my arm to brush my hand against his. He pulls away as my fingers run over his skin, jerking his hand back violently. Simultaneously his head whips up and eyes, heavy with sorrow and regret, search out my own.

“Sorry,” he returns his hand to his side and bumps it against mine as he finishes his smoke and discards the butt, “didn’ mean nothin’ by it.”

There is so much that could be said but I bite my tongue. Neither of us are practised enough at divulging our thoughts or emotions, the last few days have been proof enough of that. Pushing this matter now will only lead to cross words and more regret, something we could both live without. Plastering a bright smile on my face I do us both a favour and steer the conversation down a safer path.

“I’m starving. Worked up a bit of an appetite hauling those dead heads into the truck. How’s about we go get some breakfast?”

Daryl pauses, swallowing down the awkwardness and brushing aside his anxiety. A beat later he wrinkles his nose and points at my blood-splattered body. “Don’ bother me but if ya wanna avoid the attention ya might wanna clean up some.”

Knocking his hand away I step closer and let out a laugh. “You’re trying to say this stench doesn’t bother you? I’m not buying it.” I walk by him, gesturing to my bloodied torso.

A tiny smirk passes fleetingly across his face. “Was tryna be polite ta a lady but now ya come to mention it, yeah, ya smell like shit!”

“I can’t argue with that,” I chuckle, slowing down to allow him to fall into step beside me “I look like shit too.”

“Nah.” His hand bumps against mine, once, twice, three times before he hooks his digits through mine. “Ya look jus fine.”

“Just fine,” I tease, “well that’s exactly what every girl wants to hear.”

“Ya fishin’ for compliments?” 

I shrug my shoulders as my smile fades. “No, I accept how I look, I’m at peace with my constant state of dishevelment.” And I am. Vanity is a waste of time in the new world, one that would most likely get you killed. Before the dead rose, I, like almost every female I knew, struggled with my body image, but now I'm thankful for every lump, bump and imperfection, because this flawed body had gotten me through the end of days.

Daryl stares at me from the corner of his eye, raising a brow, as he looks me up and down. “Ya always easy on the eye, even covered in that shit. Ya know ya got half the men in this place makin’ eyes at ya’—“

“I do not!” I protest, shaking my head at his ludicrous statement. “It’s okay Daryl, I’m really not asking you to tell me I’m beautiful or pretty or any of that crap. I’m good.”

His gaze lands on me, watching me quietly for a moment, weighing up my words. “Alright. But ya are. Beautiful I mean” He clears his throat and as I turn to look at him I catch a glimpse of colour flushing his cheeks red before he hides his face behind his dark hair.

A smile warms my face and I squeeze his large hand. It’s obvious to me now that he really doesn’t have a whole lot of experience when it comes to women. The way he behaves when we’re alone shows that he’s not used to relationships and I find it beyond endearing. In fact, I think it makes me love him all the more. 

We stroll into the main building hands entwined, both a little nervous and fidgety at this open display of unity. Thankfully the place is still empty as this thing we have going on between us is going to take some getting used to. Reaching the communal area we come to a natural stop by the door and turn towards one another, hands still linked together. Looking up at the man who has stolen my heart I study his features in the subdued light. Out of the two of us, he's the one I'd call beautiful, from his soul, to his heart, to his face. He is something else. Stretching up on tiptoes, I brush the hair from his face and nervously lay my lips against his. It’s a quick peck but it still sends a thrill through me. “I’m going to go shower. Save me some food?” 

His gorgeous little crooked smile appears, warming me through to my bones. “Ya don’ have t’ ask. Jus’ don’ take too long, ‘kay.”

“Running all the way.” I grin, backing away into the maze of corridors.

I’ve turn the corner by the time he calls ‘”S long as y’ain’t runnin’ away.”

I laugh, “Not anymore.” _At least, not from you_ , I think, walking with a definite spring in my step and a ridiculous toothy grin on my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading, commenting and leaving kudos! I may not reply to each comment but please know that I read and thoroughly appreciate each and every one.
> 
> Also, sorry I've been a little quiet, I've had a particular tight deadline to meet, but now that it's done, you can expect more frequent posts from me.


	20. Chapter 20

The next few days saw much of the same behaviour, stolen glances, shy smiles and cautious hand holding acclimatising us to our newfound intimacy. During the day we would do what was needed of us, keeping a respectable distance from one another to deter unwanted attention. At night we would retreat to the roof and watch the stars whilst swapping stories, slowly peeling back our layers and getting to know one another. 

I was glad we were taking it slow. My feelings for Daryl had hijacked me and coming to terms with them was no easy task. By easing into our relationship I was able to deal with how I felt a little at a time, although more often than I’d care to admit, my treacherous body led my thoughts astray. 

We’d drawn lines, neither of us willing to venture too far over the boundaries for fear of sending the other into a tailspin, but that didn’t stop us from testing and blurring them. It was obvious to me when Daryl had been pushed too far over the line, he would fidget or become angry. Any time I saw him heading down those roads I knew I had to back off, so I did. The closer we became the easier I found him to read but any progression I had made was nothing compared with him. It was like he just had to look at me to know what I was thinking and it unnerved me at times. Was he simply that astute or was my poker face slipping?

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I contemplate how coming to the prison has changed me. As my hands set about repairing a small hole in the fence with the old length of wire I marvel at just how far I’ve come in a relatively short space of time. Whilst I’ll never be completely comfortable in a crowd, I can now walk around the prison without the need to run whenever someone looks my way, hell, I can even stand and make small talk with most people. 

Finishing my task, I stand and wipe my brow, turning to look at the walkway between the fences just as Daryl reaches the main gate and heads towards me. 

“Ready?” He asks, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

I shake my head, a mass of conflicting emotions seizing my tongue and silencing me. He’d offered to help teach me how to shoot and whilst the idea of spending the afternoon with Daryl is appealing, the thought of wasting yet more hours at the makeshift gun range fills me with dread.  
“It’s pointless.” I grumble. “I’m a shit shot, end of, all you’re doing is wasting your time.”

Tilting his head, he smirks. “Ya always this chirpy or ya save it all for me?”

I answer him with a deep-set scowl, following behind him as he marches us up to the walled yard holding the damn crate that I can’t seem to hit no matter how hard I try.  
In the main yard we pass Sasha who takes one look at my face and grins. “Good luck Dixon, think you’re going to need it,” she calls with a laugh.

Shooting her my most murderous glare I contemplate sending a blade in her direction. Not to hurt her, just to scare her enough that she wipes that dumb smug grin of her pretty face. Instead I opt for verbal abuse.

“Screw you, Sasha! Ever considered that it’s your shitty teaching that’s the problem?”

This makes her laugh harder. “Yeah, alright, Red. If that makes you feel better about your terrible aim, you tell yourself that.”

“C’mon, Red.” Daryl grabs my arm and yanks me around the corner, pulling my foul mood away from the rest of the residents before I do anything stupid. 

My blood boils at her ridicule. I know it was meant in good mirth but the belittling has forced me back into old habits and I find myself retreating away from the world. My face burns with humiliation. Gritting my teeth, I imagine all the ways I can escape this place without being detected. Through the tombs, out of one of the holes I’ve been repairing, sneaking into one of the cars when they go on a run, the list is varied and temptingly endless. God I want to run away.

“Ya even listenin’?” Daryl growls, halting and pulling me to a stop in front of him.

_No I’m not_ , I think, staring down at our shoes, _I don’t need to hear how much of a failure you think I am._

“Hey.” He hooks a digit under my chin and tilts my head up. “Look at me, Red.”

I can’t. I don’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes; I’m barely holding it together as it is. I’m embarrassed and ashamed that with one throwaway comment, Sasha has me cowering and reverting back to my weak, childhood demeanour. Swallowing down the impulse to lash out, I close my eyes and snatch back my face. Immediately, two strong arms pull me into an embrace I can’t escape. I’m trapped against the muscular frame I know can overpower me without the slightest of troubles. 

“Eden.” Daryl’s lips whisper my name into the shell of my ear. He’s succeeded in catching my full attention. I tense, waiting for what he’s going to say, expecting more ridicule. “’S just us now an’ ya don’ have ta hide from me. ‘S okay.”

“I don’t want to do this.” My voice is tight.

“We ain’t gonna then.”

I shake my head. “Not just this, not just the guns… This, the prison, us, everything” It’s a stupid knee-jerk reaction to the fun Sasha was trying to have with me but despite me not meaning it, it comes out all the same. My mind screams at me to shut up, to take back the words that are going to blow a hole in our fragile equilibrium, only it’s too late. The damage is done.

Daryl releases me and steps cautiously away. We’re by the door to the shooting yard and thankfully out of view. 

“I…” My body is trembling and my stomach rolls nauseatingly. “I didn’t mean that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“In here, c’mon.” Daryl opens the gate and ushers me into the high walled area, quietly closing the gate behind himself. “Shaded in here. Quiet too.” His eyes are watching me, I can feel them burning into my back as I turn away from their scrutiny. “What Sasha said—“

“Don’t!” 

“She don’ mean nothin’ by it—“

“Daryl, please. Don’t.” I can barely hear him over the turmoil in my mind. The devil on my shoulder is urging me to pick up sticks and run, get as far away from here as I can. ‘ _Time’s up, they’ve seen you for the pathetic, worthless idiot that you are, let’s get a move on,_ ’ he sings with glee. Running my hands through my hair, I grasp at the roots and shake my head. I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to run. I belong here now. I’m happy here.

“Eden?”

I need a second to breathe. A moment to let the acrid thoughts plaguing me, settle. Pulling my hands away from my head, I clasp them together and circle my thumbs over the back of each hand. ‘ _You know I’m right._ ’ My demon taunts. But it isn’t and deep down, below the years of abuse and repression I know this.

 

Daryl shuffles on the spot, unwilling to approach me. “Eden, please…”

Filling my lungs with air, I turn on the spot and throw my shoulders back. Forcing my chin up, I hold my head high and meet his anxious gaze.

“Get the guns. You’re going to teach me how to shoot and you’re going to start at the beginning.”

I’ve caught him off guard. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open, confusion and shock written all over his face. 

“Quickly,” I add, “before I lose my nerve.”

Giving me a stiff nod, Daryl walks over to the bin holding the guns. His movements are stiff and he keeps checking over his shoulder like he’s expecting me to bolt out of the door. In all honesty that’s exactly what I’m itching to do but I won’t. It’s time I conquered this fear and learned to shoot. Now’s as good a time as any. Two birds, one stone.

* * *

Hours pass. Daryl did as instructed and started at the very basics, pulling apart a hand gun and showing me what each piece was. He took his time, allowing me to become familiar with the feel of the gun and the weight of the metal. He watched me closely, never giving me more than I could cope with. Never pushing too hard. Eventually he’d worked up to aiming and that’s when things took an unexpected turn. 

“Relax, ya tensing ya shoulders. Ain’t gonna hit shit like that.” Daryl rubs the top of my arms in an attempt to loosen me up, and steps even closer behind me. “An’ ya not concentrating. I can see ya mind wanderin’.”

He’s right. I’m not concentrating, at least not on his lesson. I’m too caught up by how my body is reacting to his proximity. Sparks are running down the length of my spine, electrifying my nerve endings, multiplying the sensation whenever he touches me. He’s lit a fire inside me that I’m struggling to control, hell yeah I’m tense.

“You know what you’re doing, right?” I ask, as his chest presses against my back, his arm wraps around my waist and his highly kissable lips ghost by my ear. He’s got to. There’s no way that a man so highly perceptible like Daryl doesn’t realise the affect he has on women. Especially when he behaves the way he is doing, laying his hands on me to position me right. 

“’Whatcha talkin’ bout? Ya seen me shoot ain’t ya?” He huffs.

I groan quietly. Either he’s trying to make me come out and say it or he really is clueless. My bet is the second option; Daryl isn’t one for accepting compliments let alone encouraging them. “I’m not talking about your skills with a gun.” Even speaking is becoming an issue. Leaning back against his toned body, I struggle against the urges trying to control me. “Damnit Daryl, you’re the one distracting me, I can’t think straight when you keep touching me like this.” Heat floods my face but the embarrassment of admitting how Daryl’s affecting me is not enough to smother down the lustful thoughts invading my mind.

He clears his throat and releases me, stepping away to create space between us. “I didn’t,” he clears his throat again, “’M sorry, didn’t mean ta manhandle ya.”

“Manhandle?” Shaking out the rigidity in my arms, I bring the gun up to shoulder level. I’m blushing furiously and doing everything I can to hide this fact from Daryl, including preparing to take another shot. “That’s not what I meant.” I choke out, my throat and mouth as dry as the Sahara desert. Looking down the barrel of the weapon I bite my lip and aim. “You are a highly distracting person and I can just about hold my shit together under normal circumstances but when you touch me like you are, I can’t stop my body from reacting. God knows I’m trying. I’m fighting it, Daryl, but yeah, you’re damn straight I’m tense and distracted. You keep touching me and all I want to do is act on the thoughts your god damn hands are putting in my head!“ Squeezing the trigger I watch in shock as the bullet just about hit the mark. 

The silence after the echoing crack of the gunshot is making my ears ring. “Well damn.” Daryl chuckles, moving to my side and pointing at the target. “Ya gone an’ hit it, woman. 

I’m elated. For the first time since I began learning to shoot all those weeks ago I’ve managed to actually make my mark. “I did it.” My voice is barely audible in my excitement.

“Try again.”

“Really? Maybe I should quit whilst I’m ahead.” I mutter, the exhilaration of the bullet hole in the X dowsed by the mortification of my cringe worthy confession.

He closes in on me. Moving to stand behind me he wraps one arm around the top of my chest, pulling me flush against him. Hs other hand slides down my arm and nudges the gun into position.

The butterflies in my stomach stir and my heart rate increases. My breathing becomes shallower and I’m hyper aware of every part of us that are touching. I grit my teeth. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doin’ what?” His lips brush my ear and I have to clamp down on my bottom lip to stem a gasp. “C’mon, try again.”

“You’re a shit, Daryl Dixon!” I glare down the gun, aiming for the centre of the cross but my mind isn’t on the matter at hand, instead I’m concentrating on the thumping coming from the chest pressed into my back. His heart is beating so hard I can actually feel it against my shoulder. Squeezing the trigger I quickly holster the gun and spin around. I don’t care if he bullet struck the crate, that’s the least of my worries right now. Staring up into his crystal clear eyes I muster the strength to speak. “If this was just a game you were playing, congratulations you win, but if you aren’t intending for this to go any further, you need to walk away right now.”

My gaze travels down from his eyes, following the straight line of his nose to the dip of his cupids bow. Those lips, tantalisingly close and yet emotionally out of reach until he makes his move. If he makes a move.

Stuck in limbo my mind tries to wrestle my body under some sort of control. I know I’m stepping over the line, crossing into unknown territory but I can’t help it and I’m helpless to stop it. Like a piece of driftwood on an angry tide, I’m drifting along, at the mercy of the current. My actions and courage are being driven by the swell of lust he’s created and I’m sure that I’m going to be left humiliated but I have to take this chance.

His tongue darts out and wets his lips sending a flash of heat directly to the pooling desire in my lower belly. Oh god, I’m in too deep. 

“Red, I…” His arm drops and he carefully distances himself from me. The hesitancy in his voice is enough to tell me where this is heading. 

I back away from the hunter, working quickly to rid myself of the gun and holster. Tossing them back into the bin, I yank open the gate. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have…” My feet are running, carrying me to safety, before I even know what I’m doing. In the back of my mind my devil laughs cruelly, sneering at the outrageous notion that Daryl Dixon would ever want a full relationship with the likes of me.

On autopilot I make it to the roof and slam the door shut, trapping myself outside. Hopefully that will be enough of a deterrent if anyone came looking. 

God, why do I keep doing this? Why am I so inept at relationships of any kind?

Pacing back and forth, the length of the building, I’m forced to a halt when the door flies open and an angry redneck marches up to me, sticking his red, furious face in front of mine.

“I’ma put a damn leash on ya if ya dare run away from me one more time. Fuck! Ya got me chasin’ ya all over this damn prison like a love struck fuckin’ teenager. This ain’t no damn romance novel an’ I ain’t no fuckin’ hero on a white fuckin’ horse! Ya fuckin’ ask me a question ya wait for my damn answer. Ya don’t pussy out an’ run the fuck away like a prissy ass school girl, ya hear me?”

I’m speechless, not that Daryl cares, he’s not finished yet.

“I’m sicka tellin’ ya, woman, ain’t no good at all this shit. Why ya never listen? Why, huh?” He storms past me to the edge of the building and angrily yanks a cigarette from his packet. Cursing as he lights it he strides back and points a finger in my face. “Mean it Red, I’m done chasin’ ya.”

My stomach drops and the colour drains from my face as his statement sinks in. He’s washing his hands of me. He’s had his fill. We’re over. Trapping my bottom lip between my teeth so it doesn’t tremble, I nod solemnly. I can’t blame him for wanting out, given the choice, I’d leave me behind too, only I can’t, I’m stuck with me. He’s not though and now I’ve pushed him to his breaking point, snapping him in two under the weight of my emotional instability.

He sucks on his smoke before exhaling and dropping the butt. Extinguishing it with the heel of his boot he walks past me to the shelter and digs around down the side of his cot. I don’t know what to do with myself. Should I give him some space or would he see that as me running away again? Should I stay where I am or will that piss him off even further? 

All the while my heart is being squeezed as the realisation of what I’ve done settles over me like a dark oppressive cloud. 

Opting for a compromise, I stay on the roof but move away from where he’s muttering soft curses as he searches for something. Reaching the lip of the building I sit down and dangle my legs over the side. 

Sweeping my gaze over the vista I burn with self-depreciation and loathing. I’d done it again, ruined the only good thing I had going for myself. 

“Get over here.”

A sigh leaves me as I drag my feet under my body and trudge towards Daryl. He’s sat on my cot, his legs splayed and a bottle hanging from his hands between his knees.

“Sit ya ass down.”

Again, I do as he says without question. He offers me the bottle and I take it grateful for anything that might dull the ache in my splintering heart.

“Wasn’t doin’ it on purpose.” Daryl mumbles. “Was jus’ tryna help ya aim. ‘Sides didn’ think nobody would ever have those kinda thoughts ‘bout me.”

I choke on the mouthful of tequila as it slides down the wrong way. “You’re kidding me, right?” I spit out, stunned by his admission. His eyes land on me and narrow, and I realise that he’s being deadly serious. “Jesus, Daryl! You really don’t have any idea how gorgeous you really are do you?” 

He snatches back his drink and glares at me. “Y’ain’t gotta be sarcastic—“

“You think this is sarcasm? You’d rather believe that I’m being sarcastic than truthful? Unbelievable!” I throw my hands in the air perplexed at his inability to grasp what’s actually going on. “Daryl you ass, I’m in love with you. I find you incredibly attractive and I can’t stop the down right filthy thoughts when you hold me like you did today, or kiss me like you sometimes do, or touch me…” My voice cracks.  
Holding out my hand he gives me the tequila, his mouth open and slack. I chug a good few mouthfuls, hoping to draw on the liquid courage.  
“How is it possible that you see through me and yet you missed all that? How?”

Daryl shakes his head, his hair flying around his face wildly. “Ya can’t love me, I ain’t—“

“Screw you. You don’t get to decide my feelings for me.” 

“Ya deserve better than me.” He says quietly and I freeze, finally beginning to understand the enigma that is Daryl Dixon.

“Are you serious? Daryl, you’re too good for the likes of me, not the other way around… How could you miss that?” My heart constricts, aching with empathy for the man who can’t see his own worth, can’t see the respect and admiration heaped upon him by the people here because he doesn’t, can’t value himself enough. “You are _everything_ that is good in this world, Daryl.”

“I ain’t what ya think I am.””

Quirking an eyebrow I meet his melancholy gaze. “Bullshit! You’re just so used to the world beating you down that you’ve bought into the lies. I don’t know everything but I know enough to tell you that your daddy and Merle, everything they said to you was to try and keep you down because they knew, they _knew_ you were better than them. You’re better than everyone. Look around Daryl, ask anyone here, they’ll all tell you the same. You’ve helped them all; you’ve provided for them all, protected them. You’re so much more than you know, if only you could see yourself through my eyes, through their eyes.” 

“Ya don’ know—“

“What? What is it that I’m missing? What don’t I know?”

His nostrils flare. He’s growing impatient and angry. I sigh, not wanting to turn this into a screaming match. “I know that you’re kind, thoughtful, honest, and you look out for anyone who needs help. You’re the best the world has to offer, even more so because you don’t even realise it… Please, hear me when I say this. You are more than just a good man, Daryl Dixon, you are a force of nature. I love you and I know you don’t feel the same but you deserve to know the truth so… There it is. Believe it or not, it is what it is.”

He stares at me with conflict in his beautiful blue eyes and I know instinctively that he’s trying to hear what I’m telling him. That he’s weighing it all up against the years of abuse and he’s trying so hard to ignore the devil on his shoulder whispering lies. I know because I’ve been where he is, hell, in many ways, I’m still there.

“Eden,” My heart flips as he whispers my name, his gaze still locked on mine. “Ain’t never been in love,” he chews on his lip and squints. “Don’ know what it’s like.” He gestures to the tequila and mirrors my actions by slugging back a good proportion of the golden liquid. “Dunno much ‘bout relationships but ain’t never felt this way ‘bout no one b’fore…”

I can’t hide my surprise. My eyes widen as I try to digest what he’s saying. At my reaction, he stretches towards me, a hand reaching out to my face but not touching. 

“What I was gonna say earlier.” He swallows thickly. “I want what ya want. I want ta go further, I want all a ya. ‘S all I ever wanted.”


	21. Chapter 21

Daryl watches me closely, his wide eyes drinking in every minute movement and assessing it. My mouth parts and I blink slowly. For the longest moment I’m stuck in limbo, wondering if I heard what I thought I had, or if my mind was playing tricks. Did Daryl just admit that he wanted me too?

His hand hovers by my cheek and I glance at it, willing it to close the gap and rest on my face, to pull me into a heated, deep kiss. But it doesn’t. My gaze travels the length of his arm, over the tanned skin and taut muscle up to his shoulder. Taking a deep breath I meet his eyes and the world stops revolving. His pupils are blown swallowing almost all of the blue. There’s a fire behind his eyes that sears my gaze to his, trapping me in place.

And still he doesn’t move. 

My lips part ready to form the words my mind is composing only I’m drawing blanks. Lost in the depth of his hungry gaze I can think of nothing but his unforgiving body on mine. 

With trembling hands, I angle myself towards him and slowly reach out until my fingers brush against his knee. As soon as I touch the worn denim, Daryl reacts. His hand weaves through the hair at the nape of my neck and I’m tugged forwards, until our mouths meet. He kisses me firmly, holding me in place as he shuffles to position himself better. Swinging a leg behind himself he straddles my cot like he does his bike, splaying his legs. Once he’s happy he pulls away, his jaw muscles flexing with the effort of breaking the kiss. 

“C’mere!” He commands. 

His rough, low voice sends a lick of desire rolling through me. He doesn’t give me any time to react though, impatiently grabbing my hips and manoeuvring me to the spot between his thighs. Hooking my legs over his he drags me towards him until my stomach is flush with his then, sliding his hands under my ass, he hoists me up and sits me on his thighs, pressing my core against his growing erection.

My eyes fall shut as pleasure radiates through me, the slight friction enough to release a low groan of appreciation from the back of my throat. At the sound, Daryl’s hands pull me closer and his lips find the dip of my neck. His tongue lavishes me, his facial hair scratching my sensitive skin as his fingertips grip my hips tightly conveying his need and desire.

Running my hands through his hair, I lock my legs around his waist, crossing my ankles to secure the position. Every movement rubs us together in all the right places and the gasp that tears his lips from my skin is music to my ears.

Tipping his face to mine, I stare down into his hooded eyes. “Are you sure?” I breathe. I need to be sure he knows what he’s doing; I need to be certain that he’s not going to regret this.

His eyes flash and he crashes his mouth to mine, pushing his tongue forcefully in to dance against mine. Shifting his weight he bends forward, lowering my back to the cot until he’s laid on top of me, supporting most of his weight on his forearms either side of my face. The kiss becomes frantic and needy as his hand threads through my hair, brushing it from my face where his is tickling my cheek. 

He circles his hips, grinding against me, releasing a fresh wave of desire. Heat gathers between my legs and I grasp hold of his shoulders convinced that I’m going to combust in the boiling blood traversing my veins. I gulp down air, trying hard to fill my lungs and steady my heart but the insatiable need is still there. The desperation. The want. It’s only intensifying with every brush of his mouth, every gasp from his lips, every delicious roll of his hips.

There’s far too many clothes separating us, I need to feel his skin against mine, to touch him, to taste him. My fingers find their way to his shirt buttons and one by one I travel down. As I unbutton the last one I feel him tense and his breath momentarily stops. 

“What’s wrong?” 

His head falls and rests against my chest. “Want ya so bad…”

The pause is too long, there’s something he’s not telling me. Fear crawls up my throat and robs me of the power speech. What did I do wrong? Was it all too soon?

“I got ma own scars, Red, an I ain’t talkin’ bout emotional ones.” His cracked voice is low. He’s ashamed. My mind works fast, putting two and two together. 

“I love you, Daryl. Scars and all. Nothing you show me will alter the way I feel.”

I wait a beat to see what he wants to do. When he does nothing I act on the rush from my desire, braving a rejection that just might end me. Moving cautiously, I slip my hands under his shirt and run them up the planes of his stomach and chest. I can feel the rapid beat of his heart as I press my palms against him. 

“We don’t have to finish what we started,” I say softly, “we can do as much or as little as you want… I don’t care as long as you’re happy.”

He presses his lips to my cleavage, kissing the skin where my breasts meet. “I want everythin’, just didn’ want ya findin’ out ‘bout my scars at the wrong time.”

“The wrong time?”

He tilts his head and stares up at me, “Wanted ya to know b’fore we…”

I nod and gently continue what we’ve started by pushing his shirt from his shoulders. Slowly I tease it down his arms along with his vest until he sits up to shed them of his own accord, dumping them on the floor. Seeing his torso naked relights the fire that had simmered somewhat at his admission and I squirm in anticipation. He looks at me, chewing his bottom lip as he decides his next step. I want to wrap myself around him but now isn’t the right time for that, the next move has to be his.

“Take off ya top.”

It’s a bit of a struggle and far from graceful, but within seconds I manage to discard my t-shirt. Daryl’s eyes grow darker as they roam my body. 

“That too.” He growls, pointing to my bra.

As it joins my top on the floor, next to his, Daryl curses. “Ya fuckin’ beautiful, Eden.”

My heart stutters and before I know what I’m doing I’ve tugged him down and am working hard to rid him of his jeans. In a tangle of limbs and kisses we strip each other naked, kissing every inch of skin we come into contact with. As I explore his mouth-watering body I notice that even through the haze of lust, Daryl doesn’t let me get to his back and I know then that’s where he’s scarred.

“It’s okay Daryl,” my voice is shaking and hoarse, “I’ll stay away from your back until you’re ready to show me.”

My words still him. “Eden—“ He closes his mouth and sits up turning away from me so I can see what he doesn’t want to show me. 

There, decorating his broad shoulders and down to his narrow waist, lies the tell tale marks of abuse. Lines, crossing over one another haphazardly, mark his skin telling the story of his violent mistreatment. Climbing onto my knees, I press my bare chest against his back, wrapping my arms around him and kissing the side of his face from his mouth to his ear. As I tug his lobe between my teeth he exhales and grabs my wrists. 

“You’re perfect in your flaws Daryl Dixon.” I move down to his neck. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

In answer, he pulls me around and lays me tenderly on the cot. It’s a tight squeeze but he manages to settle next to me laying on his side. He’s chewing on his lip again and his breathing is laboured as he hovers a hand indecisively just above my breast.

For a second he looks truly fearful and I’m caught between my head and my hormones. Oh god I want him but only if he wants me too. Only if he needs me like I need him. Finding my voice I push down my selfishness and catch his gaze. “We can stop. It’s okay.”

Wisps of hair cover his face as he shakes his head. “Just… Ain’t never been with nobody like ya. Don’t wanna fuck it up.”

My insecurities rear their ugly heads and I move to cover my modesty. “Like me?” I whisper, the demon within parading a slide show of buxom beauties around inside my mind as I picture Daryl with an array of flawless women. A tiny frown creases his brow and he reaches for the hand I’m using to hide myself. 

“What ya doin’ that for?”

“I know I have stretch marks and my body isn’t exactly pin up material but—“ A crimson blush spreads from my chest, crawling up my neck and settling on my face.

Daryl’s scowl deepens. “The hell ya talkin’ bout? Ain’t nothing’ wrong with ya, already told ya, ya beautiful. Fuck, Eden, ya the most beautiful woman ever saw.”

Our hands are still fighting for dominance. His tugging against mine as I attempt to bring my arms back to shield myself. 

“Stop!” He reaches up and pins my wrist by my head. “Y’ain’t gotta do that. Ya perfect, too good fer the likes of a Dixon.”

“I’m not perfect, I’m far from perfect but I wish I was, ‘cause that’s what you deserve. I don’t care what you think. You’re wrong. You deserve the best of everything—“

He lowers his head and touches his nose to mine. “If ya say ya mine, then I got everythin’ whether I deserve it or not.”

My throat dries with the heat in his gaze and once again my blood warms. “I’m all yours, Daryl.”

He releases my wrist and positions himself over me. With his eyes on mine he lowers his face, skimming his lips from mine down over my chin, my neck, my clavicle, until he reaches my chest. Kissing his way down the valley between my breasts he travels lower, allowing his hands to drag down my inflamed skin. As they pass over my nipples he kisses around my belly button to my hips, his fingers toying with every inch of my breasts, lightly pinching and rolling the now pert buds. The sensation has me arching my back involuntarily as my arousal becomes too much to contain. 

“Daryl,” I’m panting and he’s hardly done anything. There’s no way I’m going to live to tell the tale at this rate, I’m going to be consumed by the molten desire and burnt to ash. “God, Daryl, I need you.”

Daryl doesn’t heed my words. Instead he creeps lower still and nips his teeth softly against my inner thigh. 

“Daryl, plea—“ My breath hitches and the words die as his tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves at the apex of my legs. My mouth falls open and my eyes roll back, the radiating deliciousness of his actions suppressing my ability to think. He licks and nibbles, sucks and plays, setting a rhythm that has me gripping onto the frame of the cot and whimpering in unadulterated pleasure.

His strong hands grip my hips, pushing me down, whilst his acrobatic tongue sends me sky rocketing for the stars. Heat and toe curling gratification build in my lower abdomen and I know I’m about to fall over the edge. As the explosion of pleasure causes my body to spasm, I arch off the cot with a gasp, my legs and arms paralysed with the pulsing jolts of my blissful orgasm. 

Daryl doesn’t stop his ministrations until I’ve ridden out the last of the heavenly shockwaves and am lying breathless and satiated in a seemingly boneless heap. With a triumphant smile, he crawls back up me, repeating his earlier actions of exploring my body with his tongue. When he finally reaches my level, he tugs his hand through his hair and offers me a timid smile. 

“Definitely wanna do that again,” he says, watching for my reaction.

Cupping his face, I tug him down for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss, chuckling as our teeth bang together. “That was something else, Daryl. God damn, you can do _that_ when ever you like!”

His answering smile is one full of pride and accomplishment and I get a rare flash of his pearly whites before he nestles into my side and begins aimlessly doodling on my stomach with his fingers.

“Seems kinda unfair though…” I turn onto my side to face him and he automatically slips his hand to the dip of my waist. “I’ve had all the fun—“

“No y’ain’t.” He arches a brow, daring me to argue.

Cocking my head to the side I tug on my bottom lip with my teeth. 

“Mean it, y’ain’t the only one who enjoyed that.”

“Okay let me rephrase then,” hooking a leg over his hip, I wriggle to press myself against his erection, “seems a little one sided at the moment.” I roll my hips eliciting a shaky breath from Daryl.

“Can we?” He asks, his voice low and gravelly.

“Can we what?” I ask in confusion.

“I, uh, you got any, uh, mean, I ain’t, not that I think ya carry ‘em ‘round,” he glances down.

“Daryl, you’ve lost me, what are you—Oh!” I clamp my mouth shut as I catch his drift. “Oh, you don’t have to worry, I can’t, ah…” I wince and shrug my shoulders awkwardly. “I can’t have kids anymore. Cancer scare. Had a hysterectomy. I, ah, well, you don’t have to worry. And I’m clean.” I add quickly, unable to look him.

“Me too.” He rushes. “Ain’t never been with nobody without, y’know.”

A small laugh bubbles in my chest and I shake my head at our uncomfortable exchange. “Well then, now that we’re done acting like embarrased teenagers…” I realign our bodies and trail my hand down his torso. As I descend lower I feel his penis twitching against my thigh each time my nails drag against his skin.

Dipping my lips to his neck, I shower him with kisses, paying special attention to his pulse point where he reacts to my soft bites. I want to tease him, to drag this out and worship every last inch of his body, but Daryl has other ideas. 

Reaching for him I trace my fingers down his length and palm his erection, intending to return his pleasuring only he stops me, catching hold of my hand and raising it above my head.

“Ain’t been with nobody in a long time,” he closes his eyes shyly, “won’ last long.”

“I don’t care.” I whisper, mirroring the action he’s done to me countless times before, and hooking a finger under his chin I bring his face level with mine. “I already got mine,” I wink, “anything else is bonus… Besides, I’m hoping this isn’t just a one off.”

“Hell no!’ He rolls us, pinning me beneath his weighty frame. “I got a taste for ya now, darlin’, ain’t never gonna get my fill.” His rough, deep voice sends a jolt of electricity through me and I feel myself grow wet.

Words become redundant as our mouths connect and tongues swirl against one another. It’s clear that he’s as hungry for me as I am him by the way our bodies react. We grasp greedily, hands roaming freely and mouths sucking passionately on anywhere we can reach. 

“Need ya so much.” Daryl groans as his tongue sweeps the shell of my ear.

Wrapping my legs around his hips, I catch his bottom lip and nibble gently, nodding slightly when his eyes meet mine. It’s all the invitation he needs. His eyes slide shut and his head lolls to the side as he pushes inside me and I honestly don’t know what’s more erotic, the feel of him filling me or the look on his face as he slips the whole way in.

With measured control, he pulls out, slowly dropping his head to rest on my shoulder. 

“Fuck,” he moans.

As he slides back in, I tilt my pelvis, and my body hums as he reaches my sensitive spot. God the friction, the fullness; it’s divine. He starts slow, pumping leisurely in and out, our breath mingling and soft curses falling from our mouths between clumsy kisses. But soon his movements grow frantic and his thrusts more powerful. As he nears his release he’s less careful with me and I know I’m going to have bruises in the morning. But hell if I care. 

As his orgasm rips through him, he snarls and bites down on my neck, the delightful combination of pain and pleasure enough to have me falling into the abyss behind him. I huskily call out his name, surrendering to the intensity of the orgasm erupting deep within me. I don’t ever want it to stop.

My body vibrates, my skin electrified and damp from the sheen of sweat coating me. As he lazily pumps his hips and drains his own orgasm, we drift back to reality, panting and spent.

Daryl collapses on top of me, his weight uncomfortably heavy as he nuzzles my neck but I don’t have the energy or heart to ask him to move. We lay in silence for a while, collecting out thoughts and breath, and basking in the afterglow. Eventually Daryl shuffles to the side and I’m able to fill my lungs enough to speak.

“Damn, Daryl! You’re fucking dangerous. I’m officially addicted to your touch.”

He props his head on his hand and smirks down at me. “’S a good thing ‘cos I intend on touchin’ ya an awful lot more.”

My eyes roll up and a grin tugs at the corners of my bruised lips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Can’t think of a better way ta go.”

“Me either.” Teasing my hand through his sweaty hair, I lean up and place a chaste kiss on his upturned lips. I could really get used to this. Settling back down onto my cot, I curl into Daryl’s warm embrace, my body spent and my mind peacefully quiet. For once I feel complete. For once I feel enough. The devil on my shoulder has been silenced and despite the numerous questions this new turn in our relationship will throw up, for the moment I am completely at peace.


	22. Chapter 22

It’s still dark when my eyes flutter open and for a self-indulgent minute I enjoy the tranquillity of the moment. I can’t recall the last time I slept so soundly or woke feeling this refreshed and I’m in no doubt as to the cause. Sturdy arms are slung loosely around my frame, cradling me against the chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm next to me. The reason for my restful slumber.

Taking my time I think back over recent events, smiling to myself at the heat that colours my cheeks as I recall our evening. If I’d thought I was hooked on Daryl before, god knows what I was now. I’m not sure I’d ever get enough of him. 

_Take what you can get whilst you can still get it…_ A flash of fear crawls the length of my spine but I push it away. This is Daryl, I reason, nothing bad will happen to him. He’s the master of the apocalypse. But still, the dread lingers in the back of my mind, taunting me, foretelling a time when I’ll have to say goodbye to the newest edition to my heart.

Buried in the crook of his neck, I inch my torso closer to his, partly to silence my worry and partly to wake him. I need to move, to work up a sweat and drown out the sickening thoughts gnawing at me. I need to put down some walkers. Praying that he’ll wake calmly but readying myself for the alternative, I whisper into his ear.

“Hey Dixon, wake up. Everything’s okay, so don’t panic…”

He answers my soft tone with a gruff rumble. “Shut the hell up, ’m sleepin’.”

“Okay, you sleep. I’m heading downstairs. I’ll catch you later.”

Rolling away to stand I’m caught off guard when Daryl sits up suddenly and fastens his hand around my wrist. 

“Wha’s wrong?” His eyes are heavy with sleep and his voice husky.

I smile at his dishevelled appearance and cautiously move between his open thighs. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve slept long enough so I’m going to patrol the fence for a while ‘till sun up.” I’m unsure as to what the appropriate action is now that we’ve slept together. Should I kiss him? Should I turn and walk away. Biting down on my tongue, I summon my courage and decide follow my heart. Cupping his face and tilting his mouth to meet mine, I lean down and kiss him hesitantly, waiting to see if he welcomes my show of intimacy. When he does, kissing me back languidly, my heart expands and I smile against his lips.

“Ya want company?” 

I want to say yes but the look on his tired face stops me. Pushing the wisps of hair from his eyes, I shake my head before dropping a small kiss to his forehead. “You look tired. Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums his response whilst settling back down on my cot. I watch, enjoying the view as he throws a thick, defined arm behind his head, the action pulling his top up to expose his navel. Shaking the dirty thoughts from my head, I grab my weapons and leave the hunter to rest. 

Part of me feels like I’m running away again, fleeing the awkward conversations that tend to be inevitable in this situation, but given our brief interaction, I’m not one hundred percent convinced it would have gone down that way. Sure I’m emotionally stunted and Daryl’s hardly one for heart to heart’s but what just happened was entirely candid and comfortable. Could it be that we’re finally getting out shit together?

Once I’m out in the yard, I know a patrol is out of the question. Through the early morning mist I can see a cluster of walkers, the largest one I’ve ever seen, pushing against the fence and I doubt it will stand up to the many more joining them. Substituting fence clearing for patrol I jog down to the crowd and begin the laborious task of stabbing them through the chain link.

They groan and moan, snapping their teeth hungrily as I pass them by. Some reach through the gaps in the links and some push their heads hard against the divide but I don’t stop to look. Dodging their clawing hands I drive my long blade through as many skulls as I can. Only the crowd isn’t dispersing. For every walker that I put down, another one shows up in its place, trampling over the bodies of the fallen. Moving back to the interior fence, I watch the horde and realise that I need to get them to space out, if I carry on as I am doing, they’re going to end up climbing on the corpses and weighing the fence down. Grinding my teeth I let out a frustrated growl. I want to get out there and deal with them the best way I know how. I want to lay the dead to rest as quickly and efficiently as possible only I can’t. There are too many by far and I’d be walking to my death the second I stepped through the gate. 

“Come on then assholes. Follow me.” I snap, hitting the barrier to entice some towards me. It works and I continue to put them down, spacing the bodies out along the perimeter. 

Drawing smaller groups away from the larger one is working well and by the time the sun has burnt through the layer of mist, I’ve made a small dent in the cluster, but it’s not enough. 

The sound of hooves draws my attention away from the dead. Over in the field behind me, Michonne is hoisting herself into the saddle getting ready to go back out. The twinge of jealousy I seem to experience every time I witness her departure stabs through my heart and I have to remind myself that I’m not a prisoner here. I can come and go as I please, no different to her. She waves once before the gate is opened, the commotion attracting more attention from the surrounding walkers. Cursing, I watch as the vegetation around the tree line shakes and yet more dead wander out of the woods. Shaking my head, I resign myself to a long day under the hot sun, protecting our defences.

“God damn it! Will you all just f—“

A noise reverberates around the prison walls and turns my anger to terror in a heartbeat. Gunshot. Spinning on my heel I see Rick and Carl running away from their crops but I can’t hear what they’re saying. More shots ring through the morning, exciting the dead who kick their snarling up a gear.

“Rick?” If he hears me, he doesn’t react. 

Checking over my shoulder, my heart sinks even further. The thunderous shots and agitated walkers have attracted the attention of every other rotting corpse in the area, bringing them lumbering towards our already bowing defences.Torn with what to do, I find myself impotently gaping from the prison, to the walkers and back again. I want to stay and clear the fence but I also desperately want to run to the prison to see what’s happening. 

“Maggie?”

She looks out of the tower, her large eyes even wider than usual.

“Gun shots, D block I think,” she yells back.

The growling behind me rises to a deafening crescendo and despite the need to know what’s going on I turn away from the prison and lunge at the dead with my knife. I focus hard, watching the walkers move and fall as I put them down. I can’t give myself a moment to think. If I do, I know I’ll run to the prison and leaving the fence unattended with this amount of walkers pushing against it could be catastrophic. 

To my right, the gate open and I watch in horror as Michonne is tackled by two walkers as she dismounts. This day is going from bad to worse in a matter of seconds and there seems to be very little I can do about it. With my heart trying to break out of my chest, I see Michonne back away from the two walkers, she reaches for her katana but isn’t quick enough. One moment she’s there, the next she’s on the floor with one of the dead on top of her and the other advancing fast. 

“Michonne!” My cry does nothing except agitate the walkers close to me. “Damnit!” 

Tearing towards the gate, another shot stops me in my tracks and I sigh a breath of relief as one of the walkers next to Mivhonne falls, unmoving, to the floor. Slowly my gaze tracks to Carl behind the fence, stunned by his own actions. 

“I got her, watch the fence!” Maggie shouts, waving me away.

Frustration, hot and angry, bubbles in my veins. I want to help my friends and I need to know what’s going on inside the prison but I’m tethered to the fence. With profanities pouring from my mouth I go back to drawing out smaller groups and putting them down, only this time I check over my shoulder every few seconds to see if there are any developments up at the prison.

* * *

My progress is slow. I can’t concentrate. I’m tense and anxious and more than once I allow a walker to grab hold of me. First my arm and then my leg causing me to fall hard on my ass.

“Red!” Daryl’s familiar voice roars my name and I manage to cut myself free just in time to see him fly down the gravel track towards me. Relief allows my muscles to uncoil now that I know he’s unhurt.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Holding my hands up in surrender I wait until his gait slows to brush myself down and meet him half way.

Trotting to the gate, my first instinct is to throw my arms around him but I stop myself. Instead I stand awkwardly, hands not outstretched but not at my side either. He glances down a crease forming between his brows. His head shakes slightly and he steps away, creating distance between us.

“What’s wrong?” 

“’S not safe,” he mumbles gruffly, “some sorta infection. Patrick, he turned but weren’t no marks on him. Whatever it is works fast. He was fine yesterday.” He glances back at the prison. “Lota people got bit, when we went in there were maybe seven of ‘em. Hershel reckons all us who been in D block, we been exposed. Said it best if we don’ get too close to the resta ya so…”

My stomach flips. “What? Infected? How? What with?” My heart is thudding painfully in my chest. How can this be happening? 

“Don’ know. Not yet anyhow.” He jambs his thumb in his mouth and chews on the nail. “Gotta meetin’ now, tryna figure things out.”

My mouth opens but I close it again. I have no words. I can’t understand how this has happened, how we’ve managed to stave off the constant threat of the walkers outside and yet still be in danger inside.

“Daryl…”

“S gonna be okay, jus’ stay outta the prison, ‘specially D, don’ go near D block. An’ don’ get too close to nobody, don’ let nobody touch ya.”

He’s worried and that scares me. Biting my lip I try to swallow but my throat is too dry. “I’ll stay here, clear as many of them off the fence as I can.“ 

He narrows his eyes. “Ya concentrate on wha’ ya doin’ then. Don’ wanna see ‘em catchin’ holda ya again, ya hear me?”

I’m fighting the impulse to run at him and hold him tight. In the face of this new risk I have an overwhelming urge to keep him close. Keep him safe. But from all accounts I can’t, he’s already been exposed to whatever this infection is.

“Patrick—“ My mind has woken from the stupor and is connecting the dots. “Less than twenty-four hours.” Oh god! Whatever killed Patrick did so in less than a day and Daryl has possibly been infected. 

Seeing my building panic Daryl squares his shoulders and straightens up to his full height. “M’gonna be fine.” He states and for a second I think he’s going to reach for me, instead he kicks the dirt with his toe and spins around, walking away.

“You don’t know that.” I call.

“An’ you don’ know I ain’t so quit ya jabberin’ an get back to them geeks b’fore they tear the fence down.” He doesn’t even look at me when he answers.

As he marches to the top of the incline, I can’t move. The injustice of the situation facing us is crushing. To have survived everything only to get wiped out by what ever killed Patrick is too damn unfair. But then when has life ever been about fairness?

Leaning against the post next to me, I bow my head and offer a prayer to the universe to let me keep Daryl, to play nice, just this once in return for all the shit I’ve already suffered through. It’s a pointless exercise, I know, plea-bargaining with the universe is as futile as wishing on a star, but that doesn’t stop me. Sinking to the floor, I beg silently for Daryl’s life. 

Tears well in my eyes but I dash them away before they can coat my cheeks. I won’t do this here, out in the open. I can’t. Not when there are people in the prison who have actually lost someone today. Not when there are people who have died. Our people.

The fence wobbles and I’m pulled back to the job at hand. I may not be able to change what’s happening inside the prison but I sure as hell can help out here. Pouring all of my energy into protecting the fence seems like a healthy way to deal with the fear so that’s exactly what I do. 

 

 

* * *

 

News drifts down from the prison in the form of visits from Maggie, Carol and Carl. With each visitor I’m gifted with more information and it’s nothing but bleak. Across the way at our makeshift graveyard, Daryl is digging. I’d watched as he made his way over there, waiting for him to wave or call, to acknowledge me in some way. He never did. Even when Glenn and Rick had delivered some of the bodies to bury, he never once glanced in my direction.

Stabbing yet another walker a thousand scenarios run through my head, none of them pleasant. Maybe he’s already feeling the affects of the infection and that’s why he’s refusing to look at me. Perhaps he’s realised that I’m more trouble than I’m worth and he’s trying to send me a message. Or maybe he’s scared to get too close in case I get ill…

“Hey.”

Hearing Maggie’s voice snaps me out of my torturous thoughts and offers me the perfect opportunity.

“Maggie! Thank god. Can you watch the fence? I need to speak to Daryl.”

“Sure.” Her weary smile tells me she too is sick of the twisted games fate is playing.

“Thanks, I won’t be long.”

Collecting a long piece of metal she takes her aim and puts down a large male walker. “Take your time, you deserve a break.”

With a nod of gratitude, I take off running towards Daryl. Desperation mixed with the poisonous thoughts I’ve been stewing carries me across the grass in record time. As I get closer, he turns, his brows pulled into a scowl or it could be a grimace, I can’t tell as the bottom half of his face is covered by a bandana.

“Ya damn well lost ya mind, Red? I’m diggin’ graves for the dead from D. Stay the hell back! Ya gonna get yerself infected.”

He’s pissed but I don’t care. Nor do I listen. I’ve had hours to think. Hours with nothing but the retched groaning of the dead and the dreadful scenarios running on repeat through my head. He backs away as I continue to run, the shovel in his hands plunged deep into the earth of the grave like a flagpole remaining steadfast as he moves further from me. 

“Stop!” He growls.

Throwing my arms around him, I unsteadily come to a halt and in the process almost knock him to the ground. His steely blues burn through me and I cower under the weight of his anger. In a rush I try and explain myself. “Daryl I’m sorry but if something happens to you, do you think I’ll just pick myself up and dust myself down? I can’t do it again; I can’t survive another loss this big. If something happens to you I’m giving up, I’m walking away from the fight. I can’t, I won’t recover. I was on the edge and you brought me back. Without you, what’s the point?” 

I can feel him trying to manoeuvre out of my grasp and as he pries my arms away doubt slithers into my resolve, eating away at my confidence. 

“An’ what if somethin’ happens to ya ‘cause a me, huh? What if I pass it on to ya an’ next time it’s your grave I’m s’posed t’ dig?” He raises his voice and points a gloved finger in my face. “Ya think I can live with that? Ya think I can carry on knowin’ it was me who put ya in the ground?” Braking my hold he shoves me away so hard I end up in a heap on the ground.

“Guilt?” My fight is gone as his sentiment hits me like a freight train. “That’s what this is? You don’t want to feel responsible if I catch what ever it is?” 

He glances around and lowers his voice. “I don’ want ya risking infection. Not from nobody. Can’t ya understand?”

“I understand you’re being selfish.” I swallow my hurt and stand up.

“Damn straight I am. I’m protectin’ wha’s mine, no different to Rick or Glenn.”

_I’m protectin’ wha’s mine…_

Blinking slowly I try to decipher his words. “You’re protecting what’s yours?” I ask carefully.

He narrows his eyes dangerously. “’M tryna take care a ya.”

“Why?”

He bristles at my question. “Ya know why.”

“Because want to avoid my death on your conscience?”

“Don’t play dumb, don’ suit ya.”

My heart kicks up a gear. “I’m not. You said you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if it was your fault I died.”

“That ain’t what I meant an’ ya know it.”

“No, I don’t.”

He pulls the bandana down, revealing his clenched jaw. “Ya need to go.”

“I need to know why. I need to know the exact reason because the thoughts I’ve been thinking aren’t kind and they’re doing me more damage than this damn infection ever could.”

His gaze sweeps the field as he figures out his next move. “Alrigh’ fine. I don’ wanna lose ya. Ya too important ta me. Satisfied?”

“No.” He looks ready to kill me. “I mean yes, but no, I’m not satisfied with the situation. I’d rather take my chances with you than—“

“Not happenin’ now move ya stubborn ass, I got a job ta do.”

“This isn’t fair.”

His brows raise and shakes his head. “Fair?”

“I know!” I snap. “Nothing about any of what’s happened is fair, doesn’t mean I can’t complain about being quarantined or whatever this is.”

“”S killin’ me too, Red.” His eyes hold the weight of his words and I know he’s not simply saying them to placate me. He means it. 

“God damn it.” I can’t stay here. If I do I’m going to break the rules and piss Daryl off even more. “You better promise me that if you start to feel ill you’ll tell me. I’m not risking missing out on any more time with you than I absolutely have to. And know this, Dixon, the only reason I’m keeping away is because you need me to. I’m putting what you want above what I want. I’m putting you first. And I’m not happy about it.” I stomp away full of heated indignation.

“Stay safe, Red.”

His call is soft and earnest and knocks the wind out of my sails. I turn to answer but he’s already pulled the bandana back up and has returned to his dire task. 

It takes me a few minutes to get back to the fence where I find Maggie offering me a sympathetic smile.

“I know how ya feel. I just wanna grab aholda Glenn and never let go. But I can’t, _we_ can’t. It’s too risky.”

“I know…” Absently I unsheathe my blade and walk the line of snarling dead.

“You should eat.” I shake my head in protest knowing that I couldn’t stomach anything right now. “Ya been out here all mornin’, Red, at least go get a drink.”

“Really Maggie I’m f—“

She holds up a hand to stop me and fixes me with a hard look. “Last thing we need is you droppin’ down with dehydration or exhaustion or somethin’ just as preventable. Go get somethin’ to eat an’ drink. Doctors orders.”

There’s little point in arguing so I don’t. With a curt, ‘fine’, I do as I’m told, trudging back to the prison full of churning frustration. However, once I make it to the yard, the severity of the situation hits home. People are dying and there’s nothing we can do. Walkers we can fight. People we can fight. Illness we can’t.

Or can we…

An idea curls around my frustration like smoke, clouding it from view and offering a new way to channel my emotions. Perhaps there was hope yet. Changing directions abruptly and despite Daryl’s warning to stay away from everyone else, I head to find Hershel.


	23. Chapter 23

I was on the roof when I heard Maggie screaming for Daryl and Rick. The tenor of her voice sent a shard of ice down the length of my spine and for a moment I daren’t look. Closing my eyes, I gripped the bottle of water in my hands tighter and tried to ignore the panic coming from the voices downstairs. I’d only been up here a matter of minutes, how could something have happened in the short time it had taken me to climb the stairs and grab the bottle of water next to my cot? The moment of denial passes quickly and my senses return. I hurtled towards the stairs, not even bothering to check what was actually happening. Whatever it is, Maggie required help, that’s all I needed to know.

Tearing down the steps, I can’t believe how fast things are changing here. Within twenty-four hours we’ve gone from a peaceful community to this – a war against infection and the dead. Gritting my teeth I wish I’d been successful in finding Hershel but I’d failed, unable to find him anywhere. Scouting as much of the prison as I could, it was only when I bumped into Beth I’d found out he was with Dr. S in D block, no doubt trying to figure out what the hell was going on. 

Distracted by my wayward thoughts, I bounce off the opposite wall at the bottom of the stairwell, the skin on my arm splitting open when it catches against the unforgiving breezeblocks. It doesn’t matter though the pain is eradicated by the fear of what ever it was happening outside.

I make short work of the corridor, bursting out into the sunshine to finally see what the issue is. The fence. It now leaning in at a worrying angle, walkers clambering at it, and even though a small group had gathered to try and clear them, the fence was still dangerously close to crashing down.

Swearing to myself, I push forward, sprinting across the yard to join the people fighting back. Clearing the fence from the inside wasn’t going to work, there were too many of them but at this point it’s all we have. 

Hitting the top of the field, a dribbling sensation tickles my arm and I curse when I see tracks of blood trickling down to my elbow. This isn’t going to help matters. Slowing slightly, I dip and wipe my bicep on my tattered trousers, contemplating if heading towards a cluster this big as I'm covered in fresh blood is such a good idea. It could help draw them away from the buckling part of the fence or it could work them into an even bigger frenzy. Logic tells me to stay back but the grunts and cries of my friends, of Daryl sing to me like a siren, stoking the fire that drives me to want to help.

As I’m trying to make up my mind, Daryl and Rick peel away from the group. Rick heads for the pigsty as Daryl comes towards me. He points at my arm, silently asking what happened.

“Looks worse than it is. It’s fresh though and I don’t know if it’ll help or hinder them.” I nod towards Maggie and Glenn stabbing the dead through the shuddering chain link divide.

“Get the gate, Rick’s got a plan. Then get ya ass back to the yard. They smell ya, they ain’t gonna follow us.” He jogs past me as he’s talking, throwing hurried glances over at Rick.

“Be careful out there.” I turn to walk backwards, pleading with him with concern in my eyes. I can’t help it. The thought of him out there with possibly a hundred walkers fills me with dread.

He jerks his chin up arrogantly and scowls as if I’ve offended him, but I know better. He’s worried and doesn’t want to show it; instead he’s hiding behind his stubbornness, trying to prove he’s all man – as if there was ever any doubt.

A collective yelp drags my attention back to the fence. Despite the posts propping it, it’s teetering unsteadily. Whatever Rick’s plan is, they need to hurry. Maggie and her crew are really struggling against the brute force of the mindless horde. Staying as far from the crowd as possible, I reach the gate. Dancing from one foot to the other I wait impatiently as Daryl drives the jeep and its trailer over to Rick. Moments later they’re coming at me at full speed. There’s no time for words, no time for sentiments, so I do the only thing I can and open the gate. It yawns open just wide enough for the vehicle to exit. It hasn’t even completed its journey before I’m using all my strength to close it again. Effectively trapping Rick and Daryl out there. With all of _them._

I feel like I’m going to throw up. The helplessness, the impotence is crippling me and tightening my chest. This is torture.

Stumbling backwards, I retreat, hating myself for each laborious step I take away from the battle. This isn’t what I’m used to, it isn’t what I do. I should be out there helping or at the very least side by side with Maggie. A scream of cruel frustration threatens to break through my gritted teeth but I hold it in. I can see what Rick is doing and any distraction from this side of the fence will work against his plan.

With my heart in my throat, I watch as Rick maims a piglet and leaves it for the walkers, the jeep lurching forwards just as the group of dead reach them. Rick’s sacrificing his pigs, slicing them open to tempt the walkers away from the fence and it’s working. The periodical squeals of anguish from the piglets as Rick’s hunting knife makes sure they can’t run, attracts the hungry corpses until what’s left at the fence is a manageable group. 

Within minutes the fence is secured, the props are shifted to better hold it and Daryl is circling around for the drive back. During the whole thing I’ve slowly back stepped my way to the top of the hill and as I lean heavily against the wall of the watchtower a lick of self-loathing engulfs me.

I should have been there helping, not hanging back to watch. If I hadn’t been so damn clumsy I could have been on the front line. Doing my bit. A growl bubbles out of my chest, and ignoring Daryl’s words, I head straight for D block. Guilt gnaws at me as I stride into the building but it’s secondary to the anger at being unable to do anything to help just now.

I find Hershel and Dr. S just inside the door. The second they see me, their eyes grow wide and they usher me outside.

“Ya can’t be here, Red.” Hershel advises in his charming southern lilt.

“Have you figured out what it is yet? Actually it doesn’t matter, look, I think I can help but you can’t let Daryl know.”

Their wary faces glance at one another with scepticism.

“I know where there are drugs, I’ve been there, only it’s not exactly safe and Daryl would never let me—“

“What kind of drugs?” Dr S. interrupts me, stepping forward.

“All kinds. Give me a list of what you need, I can go see if they have them.”

Hershel narrows his eyes and the skin around them bursts into wrinkles like a firework exploding on the fourth of July. “Why wouldn’t Daryl let you go there?”

Keeping my voice level and being sure to meet his suspicious gaze I stand tall, as if I have nothing to hide. “Like I said, it’s not exactly safe, but show me somewhere that is?”

Dr S. looks convinced. He nods his agreement and tugs his hand through his hair. “I can write the—“

“Now let’s not be hasty.” Hershel holds out his hands before offering me a kind smile. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do but this really is somethin’ the council should discuss.”

“And in the time you call everyone together and argue it out more people could die.” Losing my calm would not help the situation so I fight to stay cool and collected even though I just want to scream for him to see sense. “I’m not offering guarantees but surely it’s worth the risk.”

“And where are these drugs located?”

“The clinic Daryl and I went to—“

“Ah.” Hershel smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes this time. “Now I understand.”

I’ve lost him. I know I have and yet I‘m still arguing my point. “No, you only know what Daryl told you, and he was being overly cautious, which was fine back then but now we need to act. What if the next person who falls ill is Maggie, or Beth, or Judith?” I’m playing dirty but he isn’t taking the bait.

“You’re jumpin’ the gun, Red. There’s only a few people who are showing any signs of illness. For all we know this could blow over--“

“You don’t believe that for a second! If you did you wouldn’t be keeping us apart, segregating people like Karen and David.”

“Regardless of what I think, what any of us think, we have a council for a reason. I’ll bring this to the table if you wish, of course Daryl is part of the council so I think I can guess what the outcome will be.”

“Fine.” The last tenuous thread I had over my temper snaps. “I don’t need your permission anyway.”

Hershel nods slowly. “Whilst it’s true you don’t need our blessing, I doubt even you would be so pig headed as to tackle that place without knowing what we need.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns to look at Dr. S. “And seeing as neither Dr. Subramanian or I have any intention of providing you with that list, I strongly urge you to remain patient.” He reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Please, Red, I know you want to help but at the moment, we need to exercise caution not storm into a clinic packed with walkers and dangerous people.”

Shaking myself free I grit my teeth. “I could be there and back by nightfall. Just… think about it.” 

“Ain’t nothin’ ta think 'bout.” Daryl’s gruff voice startles me. “She been in there?” He addresses Hershel like I don’t exist.

The older man tilts his head before dropping his gaze to the floor. “Briefly, yes.”

“She been exposed?”

A sigh follows his question. It’s enough of an answer.

When I turn, Daryl looks pained. I’d expected the customary glower he always wears when he’s pissed but this is new. His half lidded eyes are partially hidden by his hair and yet I can still see the betrayal in their depths. I can’t bear to look at him. All of a sudden I feel shameful and even though I’d only been trying to help. 

“I have to do _something_.” I whisper guiltily.

He turns from me but not before casting those hurt filled eyes over me one last time. 

“It’ll be alright,” Hershel pats my shoulder again as he walks by and I bristle under his touch, “I’ll talk to him. He jus’ wants to protect you.” He follows after Daryl and I’m left in the company of Dr. S. who has been incredibly quiet up to now. That is until we're alone.

“I’ll give you the list.”

I snap my gaze to his and narrow my eyes. “You will?”

“Yes. I’ve seen this in textbooks. Burying our heads and hoping it will go away won’t help. The conditions we’re living in, they’re perfect for this kind of infection. It won’t be long until more of us get sick, by which time it might be too late to send anyone out.”

“You can’t tell them.”

He laughs. “I think they’ll figure it out for themselves, but for what it’s worth, no, I won’t say anything. Just promise me you’ll be extra vigilant. You’re needed here. Remember that. Don’t take stupid risks.”

“I won’t, I swear. Look, I need to try, Daryl, he’s been infected, so has Carol, Hershel, you. I have to do something, I can’t just sit around and wait to see what happens. Whilst I’m fit and able, I have to help.”

He scribbles something on a scrap of paper he pulls from his pocket and hands it over. 

“Any of these will help. You don’t have to get them all, if you can, do it but if not, just one of the drugs on that list will make a difference”

Glancing at the complicated names I can’t even pronounce I nod my head and tuck the paper into my bra. I get the feeling I might be searched at some point and there’s no way I’m risking them getting hold of the list.

“Thanks. I’ll go as soon as I can get away without being seen.”

Dr. S. drops his head in defeat. “Why do I feel like I’m sending you to your death?”

“Aw doc, c’mon. Out of everyone here I’m the most qualified for this job. Give me some credit and have faith. I got this.”

He looks right through me, staring off into the middle distance as I try to bolster his failing spirit but my words aren’t fooling him. With a sigh I shrug, “well, see ya soon then.”

He mumbles a goodbye and I walk away leaving him to his thoughts. Around the corner, I see Daryl, Hershel, Glenn and Rick. They’re muttering quietly, gathered in a huddle. As soon as they see me they break apart, dispersing as fast as they can whilst keeping the impression that it isn’t my presence that has sent them scurrying. Only Daryl remains.

“I didn’t set out to hurt you.” I pause when I reach his shoulder. Facing the opposite way from him I’m looking at the stark prison walls instead of his crest fallen face. I can’t handle the disappointment and hurt written all over his features. “I’m not trying to complicate things. I tried to stay out of it but how can I when you’re in the thick of it? I’m part of this community too, I can’t just stand back and watch you all, watch _you_ fight for me.”

“I don’ understand why it’s so hard fer ya to wrap a head 'round.” His eyes flicker to the side and catch my gaze. “”S ma job ta fight fer ya, protect ya. When I saw ya back there, I knew ya’d done it, knew ya’d gone an exposed yaself to whatever the hell this is. An for once I didn’ get angry, fuck, wish I’da got angry ‘cos what I feel instead, it’s eatin’ me up.”

“That’s exactly how I’m feeling, Daryl. Eaten up inside. I _have_ to do something, to at least try and help.”

“An what ya gonna do, huh? Now ya might be infected, wha’s ya grand plan? Run back to the clinic an’ get yerself shot or bit?”

“Rather that than sitting here watching as everyone dies, one by one. Watching _you_ get sick…”

“I was wrong.” My heart leaps as he turns to face me. “’M angry, ‘m angry as all hell.” He quashes any hope I had of appeasement with a hateful glare. 

Tracing my fingers down his arm, I brush them over his knuckles before he pulls away. His rejection, whilst understandable, stings. “Seems we’ve reached an impasse,” I say softly, “because I won’t apologise for my actions. I’m not sorry. I’ll move heaven and earth to fight this with or without your permission because the alternative isn’t something I’m willing to face. I’d rather live a hundred years with you angry and hating me than a single minute with us reconciled but you dead.” 

The list Dr. S. gave me is scorching my skin and this is the perfect opportunity to act. As much as it pains me, I know Daryl won’t come looking for me for a long while, if at all, as long as we stand at opposing sides of this argument. Wrapping my arms around myself I force my legs to move and carry me away from the man I love. My heart is heavy and my limbs are like lead but if I’m going to avoid suspicion I have to leave now. 

Biting my tongue hard, I ignore the prickling tears that well -- a by-product from the knowledge that this could very well be the last time we see one another alive. I daren’t even take a final glimpse over my shoulder, I’m too scared he’ll see through my actions and stop me from going. 

Because I have to go. I have to fix this. 

Last time my family died because of my inability to act, I refuse to let that happen again. 


	24. Chapter 24

As the day draws to a close I growl softly to myself and wipe the sweat from my brow. I’d expected to be long gone by now but it was as if Daryl could read my mind and had blocked my attempts at escape at every turn.

Of course, it was never actually him; he was still far too angry to come near me, but that hadn’t stopped him thwarting my every effort. First Maggie had handed me a list of urgent jobs that couldn’t wait. When I asked why she was putting this on me she’d told me that Daryl had explained how I’d said I needed to be productive during the crisis. Next Carol had joined me by the fence to see how I was handling the situation, which I found ironic when she herself was strangely jittery. After Carol came Hershel to ask me to help assess the people left in the prison and then back to Maggie with yet more jobs.

As I’d worked through the catalogue of chores I’d become more and more angry at the way in which he’d twisted my words to his own gain. He knew fine well that the proactiveness I’d spoken about didn’t mean repairing a cracked water pipe or preparing food. Of course that’s why he’d done it, he was far from stupid and he’d no doubt figured out my plan. Why did he have to see through me so easily?

I’d been in the middle of fixing the pipe when I’d found out the horrific news. Rick had approached me, his eyes combing me from top to bottom full of questions. When he spoke, his quiet voice had sent a chill up my spine as he’d questioned me about my day. Only after he’d crossed me off his suspect list had he told me what had happened. 

David, a man I hadn’t known too well, and Karen, a woman I’d seen with Tyreese quite often had been murdered. As if fighting the roaming dead outside the gates and this infection inside wasn’t enough, we now had to contend with someone plotting our murders. 

“It’s falling to pieces around us. Our safe haven is ruined.” I’d muttered and for the longest while Rick had only stared out into the woods. He felt it too, I knew, only he refused to let it slip through our hands.

“They were sick.” He’d told me firmly. “Whoever it was knew this. I think they were tryin’ to help, tryin’ to stop it spreading. Protectin’ the rest of us.”

I’d had no words to reply with, not when I could understand what would compel someone to this level of depravity. Maybe that’s why I’d been one of the first on his suspect list.

And now, as the early evening breeze ruffles my hair, I sit on the roof staring at the row of vehicles waiting to be driven and a longing to escape stirring in the pit of my stomach. Karen and David could still be alive if Daryl and I had succeeded in our original expedition to the clinic. If we’d just gone back in and grabbed a few bottles of antibiotics, this whole sorry, tragic mess would have been avoided.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda… I guess I just had to add David and Karen to the list of people I’d failed to save.

A grunt comes from somewhere near the door behind me causing a flare of anger to spark in my stomach. The acrid heat climbs up my throat and into my mouth, clawing to break free in the form of a bitter ‘I told you so’ only I can’t. Even in the depths of my seething fury I won’t lay this at his door because I know it isn’t his fault, deep down, past the resentment and brooding rage, I’m perfectly aware that Daryl is only, and has only ever tried to protect me. Still, I can’t acknowledge him. 

“Ya still here.”

Well there goes any pretence of normality. “Looks like it.” It’s hard to speak through my clenched jaw.

“C’mere, got somethin’ t’ show ya.”

_Fuck you_ I think with all the hostility running through me. I don’t say it though, I want to continue ignoring him, really drive my point home.

“C’mon, Red. Stop behaving like a child, ‘s important.”

Like a red rag to a bull his insult sets me charging. I round on him with narrowed eyes and clenched fists. “The only reason I’m still here is because of the people downstairs. ‘Cause I know you’re pig headed enough to try and come after me if I leave, despite everyone needing you here.” Storming past him I make sure to crash into his shoulder, allowing myself a small smile of satisfaction as I temporarily knock him off balance. 

“Huh.” 

He has the gall to sound fucking amused! Spinning around I stomp back and shove him hard. He responds with a grin.

“Guess ya regrettin’ ya decision to risk infection now, ain’t nothin’ stopping me from followin’ ya round all day, every day, unless one of us get’s sick an’ dies a’course.”

My jaw drops and I shake my head in disbelief. Angry Daryl I understand but this… Making jokes when two people have been murdered and others are sick, possibly dying, this is not the person I thought I knew. Or is it? My mind whirls and suddenly the dots are joining and I’m making sense of the seemingly abstract pattern.

Daryl, for all of his strength and bravado is as confused and fearful as the rest of us, only he can’t show it. People look up to him, hell, he’d brought most of them in, to them he was an infallible god. If they saw him fold, panic would ensue; the tenuous hold onto hope and order the majority of our community are clinging to would sever. All that would remain would be chaos and fear. 

Daryl was holding all this on his shoulders, bearing the weight that our community had placed there, despite his own fears and worries. Despite trying his damnedest to keep me safe too. There was hardly any wonder he was acting out, buckling under the pressure.

Damn. There goes my anger. Pushing the hair from my face my hands settle on my hips and I tilt my head to the side.

“No. What’s pissing me off is you hiding behind Maggie, Carol and Hershel instead of coming to me yourself. Rick told me what happened today with Tyreese. I know people are frightened and angry and looking to you to make things right. So no, I’m not regretting my decision, I just wish we could work together instead of fighting against one another.”

He’s chewing on his bottom lip, working it between his teeth as his eyes squint against the sun. His hands are fastened to the strap of his crossbow that’s slung over his right shoulder and he subconsciously hitches it up his arm even though it wasn’t falling.

“What did you want to show me?” I ask, trying to coax something out of him.

“Forget it, don’ matter.” 

Suddenly I’m watching his back as he’s walking away, heading back to the stairwell.

“I’m going to go, you know. As soon as I can. And you shouldn’t, you can’t follow me. You’re needed too much here.” 

He stops and sighs. “Ya know perfectly well I ain’t gonna let ya do that.” His gaze meets mine over his shoulder and in it I see him pleading with me to let the matter lie. 

“Our people are dying Daryl. Our people are being _murdered_. We can’t ignore that.”

“I ain’t. ‘M doin’ everythin’ I can—“

“I know you are, so let me help.” He’s facing me now, his beautiful eyes begging me not to do what we both know I‘m going to. 

“Ya did. Ya done everythin’ today to keep this place—“

“Don’t. You know what I mean.”

A sigh wracks his frame and he allows the crossbow to slide to the floor. He stands before me, his head bent as if in prayer, maybe he _is_ praying.

“Daryl…” The last thing I want to do is add to his troubles but I can’t ignore the possibility of being able to help. God, we’re just going around and around in circles here.

He shakes his head.

“Daryl…” 

“Ya can’t.” His voice catches and he brings his head up just enough to look at me. As our gaze connects a jolt of electricity runs through my body, pinning me to the spot and splintering my heart into a thousand shards. Anguish shines out of his blue eyes, sombre and poignant, and cutting me to the bone. For a second he removes the mask and allows me to see what is in his heart and it breaks me. 

“I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.” I manage to choke out.

“Earlier,” Daryl straightens up, rising to his full height, “last time I… When I saw Merle, after… When ya was with Hershel, knew what ya’d done an’ that I couldn’t do shit to stop ya, to protect ya. Like him.” He won’t look at me now. His gaze is back to the trees and his mind is fixed on trying to articulate what he’s thinking. His lip is once again trapped between his teeth and if I didn’t know better I’d swear he was fighting tears.

“I’m so sorry, I never wanted to make it harder for you.”

“Realised why I didn’ get mad, least not at first.” His eyes close and he hangs his head again. “Took me all day to figure out.”

“Why?”

“’Cause I was scared. ‘Cause I thought I was gonna… Lord knows how… Dunno how ya did it, ya stronger than me.”

“What?” His endless sentences are confusing me. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

“’S too late for me now.” He reaches out a hand and with a deep sense of dread I take it. His thumb rubs the back of my hand tenderly, each stroke of his flesh against mine licking at my growing level of fear. “Said I didn’ know what love was an’ I didn’, least not ‘tll I saw ya in D block. Then it hit me, almost knocked me on my ass.”

My heart beats feverishly, stuttering painfully behind my ribcage as he gruffly lays his soul out bare. My fear subsides but the adrenaline is still pumping with the anticipation of what he’s about to say.

“I know now. Ain’t felt so fuckin’ sick since Merle, since I had to put him down. That’s when I knew, ‘cos I ain’t never been scared of nothin’ till now, till you.” He tugs my hand and I lurch towards him, into his open arms long before I have the chance to react. “I need ya to stay inside the fence ‘cos I can’t risk ya in harms way no more than ya already are. I can’t let ya go ‘cos I love ya, Eden. Please, don’ fight me no more. Let me love ya the only way I know how. Let me protect ya.”

His embrace is crushing but it’s nothing compared to the weight of his words. 

_He loves me._

My head is a mess. I was ready to fight it out, argue and even manipulate him if I had to, to get him to agree to let me leave. Instead of the jubilation I should be feeling at his declaration I’m smothered by anxiety and confusion. The man I love has just given me his heart but in return I have to walk away from any attempt of breaking into the clinic. How can I possibly go against his wishes when it’s going to crush him? How can I hurt him even if I’m only doing it to help?

_He doesn’t mean it,_ my demons rear their heads once again and whisper gleefully into my ear, _he’s using emotional blackmail. He doesn’t love you, you’re worthless, you’re unlovable, he’s just working his angle._

In a burst of turmoil I break out of his hold and stagger back, gasping for air and clarity. 

_This is Daryl._ I remind myself. _He’s not devious, he wouldn’t do that._ Rubbing my face I bring my gaze to rest on his.

“Tell me again. Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me.”

Without missing a beat he complies to my demand. He spears me with a look of intense candour and breathes the words into the space between us.

“I love you, Eden.”

A wave of emotion sweeps me away. I’m drowning in fear, elation, love, grief and denial. 

“You win.” I mutter surrendering to defeat. “I won’t go. I’ll stay here, do what needs to be done behind the fence.”

It’s far from the fairytale endings I used to recite to my daughter. There’s no happy ever after just because he’s admitted his feelings. Instead he’s crushed me and I know I’ll be forever haunted by this conversation until the day I die because this is the second time I’ve gone against my instincts, the second time I’ve listened to someone else instead of trusting my gut. I just hope that the outcome wouldn’t lead me to burying the man I love, again.

“Ain’t a win ‘til I know for sure y’ain’t sick.” 

As the sun rapidly descends, Daryl is lit with an orange light, his skin glowing like he’s on fire. Turning away from his watchful eyes I try to find solace in the glorious sunset but there’s none to be found. 

“”M sorry, Red. I ain’t bein’ fair to ya.” His familiar arms envelop me as his head rests on my shoulder. “Never knew love was so selfish. Maybe it ain’t, maybe’s just me but the thought of ya anywhere other than with me… It kills me.”

“Yeah.” I say flatly. “Sometimes love is cruel.”

He pulls me closer and his lips bush my ear. “Don’ hate me. Please”

Hate him. If only, it would make things so much simpler.

I sigh. “Couldn’t even if I tried.” 

He acknowledges this by pressing his lips to my neck. Once, twice, three times he kisses me, and with each kiss his hands grip tighter. 

“Got somethin’ for ya.”

He disappears, releasing me from his death grip and giving me a moment to breathe. Only a moment though as he’s back a breath later.

“Found these out in the woods. Reminded me of ya.”

He awkwardly hands me a bouquet of bright red flowers, their petals long and thin, looking like miniature exploding fireworks.

“They’re called Fire Pink’s.” He offers. Chewing on his lip. They’re beautiful but they don’t lighten the heaviness of my heart. “Ya don’ like ‘em?” He’s nervously eyeing me, reading my every slight movement. 

“I do.”

“’S not enough, is it?”

“I’m worried and I’m scared. If this flu spreads and you get it I honestly don’t know how I’ll go on. Th—“

“Don’t. Not tonight. Can’t we just pretend like it’s yesterday again an’ none of the shit that happened today really happened? If we only got a little while longer together, I don’ wanna waste it.”

His words clear the fog in my mind until I can finally see through the mist He’s right, why waste what limited time we have arguing about circumstances we can’t control. Nothing was certain, noting was written in stone. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring so, yeah, why not enjoy tonight?

Raising my gaze I dip down to smell the flowers. “You’re right. I don’t want to waste another second.”

His mouth hitches up slightly and once again he snakes his warm arms around me, only this time I mirror his actions, wrapping mine around his neck, careful not to crush my flowers.

“So now what?” Daryl asks, his eyelashes fluttering as he alternates looking into my eyes and down at my lips.

“Well, if it’s yesterday again, if I remember rightly, we should make our way to my bed, Mr. Dixon.”

His answering grin melts what ice was left in my heart and the way he scoops me into his ridiculously sexy arms sets fire to my blood. What ever comes of the outbreak, we’ve got the here and now and as Daryl’s lips meld themselves against my own, I allow the dread and worry to slip away. I’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.


	25. Chapter 25

Daryl lays me on my cot gently, staring down at me, taking his time to look over every inch of my body. His eyes dart from mine, to my lips, my neck, my chest like he’s trying to memorise me.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I say, drawing his eyes back to mine.

“Ya ma girl. Ain’t never been able to say that b’fore.” His tongue flits out and licks his lips. “Ya don’ know how much ya changed me.” he rubs the back of his neck and takes a seat on the edge of the cot, his back to me. “I want ya to know. No one ever looked at me like ya do, like I’m worth somethin’. I ain’t never felt important ‘till now. Suddenly I’m the guy they want to shake hands with an’ they want around, only ‘cause they think I can help ‘em, but not you. Ya don’ want nothin’ but ya deserve everythin’.” 

My heart constricts and I ignore the lump in my throat. Pulling myself up, I kneel gently behind him, driven by the desire to protect him. He’s breaking down his barriers and allowing me to see his vulnerability and it’s killing me that he’s never felt the warmth of unconditional love. 

“I just want to love you.” I whisper, pressing myself to his back and placing a kiss on his shoulder. He sags, his body letting out a deep sigh.

“I don’ deserve—“

“My love isn’t something you have to earn, Daryl.” I close my eyes and breathe in his scent. “It’s given and it’s up to you if you take it or not. It’s unconditional… I fell in love with you, with all of you, the good and the bad and I love it all. I might not like you all the time,” my lips curl into a wry smile as I huff a small laugh, “but I love you, no matter what. It doesn’t matter what you think you do or don’t deserve, this is how it is and how it’ll always be.” I shrug. “You’re everything to me, Daryl.”

Carefully he extracts himself from my arms, stands up and turns to face me. “Ya don’ know an’ I don’ know how to tell ya.” His fingertips skim my cheek.

“Tell me what?” I ask slowly, fearing the worst.

His blue and endlessly deep eyes fix onto my gaze, burning me to my soul. “How much I love ya.” His gruff voice is quiet and weighted with emotion. Those five words have the impact of a nuclear bomb exploding in my chest and I’m suddenly nervous and shy again.

“You love me, that’s enough.” I whisper timidly.

Slowly he nods, cupping my cheek with both of his large hands. Without taking his eyes from mine he leans down and brushes his lips against mine before finding my ear. “I’ma try an’ show ya how much I love ya.” 

My breath catches and my heart stutters to a stop. I could die in this moment. In the silence around us, all I hear are the echoes of his declaration, the deep gravelly tones of his affirmation tethering my soul to his. A warmth floods my veins and kick starts my resting heart, only know it beats for two again. 

His mouth comes back to mine softly, kissing me tenderly. Without the urgency of his earlier touch I enjoy the feeling of unity and safety without the heat of uncontrollable desire clouding my thoughts. This man loves me and I love him, and somehow, against all odds, when the world fell to pieces, we managed to fix one another.

Daryl pulls back and hovers over me, his eyes glinting in the last of the daylight. He’s looking at me again, caressing me with his gaze. Supporting himself with one arm he pulls up my top, exposing my stomach to the early evening air. Cautiously he lays his hand on my torso. His fingers dance across my flesh, running along the lines of my waist and the gentle curve of my belly. 

“I wanna see ya naked.” 

His blunt words startle me and I can’t disguise my surprise as I stare up at him but as he glances away shyly, a faint tinge colouring his face, I realise that this is a first for him. He’s never loved anyone before so he’s never _made love_ in this way.

I nod, a small smile on my lips.

Hesitantly he stands, offering his hand to me to help me up. Sliding my palm into his he gives a firm tug and I’m on my feet, facing him. For a brief moment, we just stare at one another and it’s clear that finally, we’re on the same page; we want the same thing.

Clearing his throat, Daryl gestures to my top only when I try to remove it, he pushes my hands away. 

“I wanna…” He swallows, avoiding eye contact.

“You want to undress me?”

“Mhmm.” 

_If only the world could see you now! Under the tough exterior lives a man as gentle and beautiful as any creature thought up by God. If everyone saw this side, you’d be beating them away with sticks. You are perfect in your own, unique way._

I allow my arms to fall away and offer myself to the man I adore. I want to tell him everything I’m thinking, I want to shout it from the rooftop but I know I can’t. What is happening here isn’t about me, it’s about him, it’s about letting him express himself. He wants to show me that he loves me and I’m certainly not about to do anything to get in the way of that.

Daryl grasps the hem of my top and gently pulls it up over my head. Dropping it to the floor he returns to studying me, taking his time, drinking me in. My first instinct is to cover my modesty with my arms but I fight it. Instead I stand perfectly still until the reverence in his gaze stops me feeling self-conscious and starts making me feel worshipped. 

When he’s had his fill, he removes my bra. Slipping the straps down he steps around me and unclasps the ugly grey material. I watch as the garment joins my top, wishing I had underwear that was suited to seduction rather than running for my life.

“Ya beautiful.” He whispers unexpectedly and I jump as he sweeps my hair over my shoulder and kisses the nape of my neck. His lips descend and his hands grasp my hips firmly as he kisses down the arch of my vertebrae. 

Closing my eyes, I revel in the sensuality of his unsullied actions and as he falls to his knees and snakes his hands up to undo my jeans my treacherous body shudders in anticipation. I’d been turned on before, but this, this is something else. My heart is thundering but at the same time calmed by his touch. My body is both aching and soothed by the heat from his skin. In his eagerness to drink me in, I am drowning in conflicting and immeasurable emotion.

Keeping my eyes glued shut and focussing on slowing my heart rate back down, I allow Daryl to spin me around and work my jeans down to my ankles. Within a minute he’s unlacing my boots and I’m left standing in only my unflattering, black panties. Oh how I wish I had decent underwear.

Prying open my eyelids, I’m met with the intense fire in his gaze. He’s taken a step away and is watching me intently. His soft lips are parted slightly and every now and then his devilish tongue slides along his lower lip. Desire heats my naked skin and every inch of me flushes beneath his unwavering gaze, he’s hardly even touched me and I’m a trembling, lustful mess. And then he starts to strip! This is exquisite torture. 

He shirks off his vest and unbuttons his shirt all the while his eyes never stop their relentless roaming of my body. Next he kicks off his boots and drops his pants, by which point I’m sure I’ve died and gone to heaven. Finally he removes his underwear, and for a brief moment he shuffles uncomfortably but his self-consciousness soon passes, as I become the full focus of his attention again.

Daryl holds out a hand and I take it gladly, allowing him to tow me gently towards him. When I’m finally close enough, I throw my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his and delighting in the burst of electricity where our skin meets. 

“Ya shakin’”  
I nod, willing him to understand that it’s just my body reacting to this erotic show he’s performing.

“Ya alright’? I can stop—“

Turning into his neck I hide my face. “I’m shaking because I want you so damn bad.” I mutter, nipping at his collarbone to emphasize my point.

He stills, seemingly taking in this information, before sliding his hands slowly down my sides to the top of my panties. As his rough fingertips drift down, I exhale a shudder.

“You know what you do to me.” I grind out, biting my bottom lip to suppress a moan. “I’ve told you before.”

He dips his head and licks his way up my neck until his lips find my ear and now I know he’s purposely making me sweat. “Ya like me that much?”

My go to response is to tell him to fuck off but Daryl isn’t like other men, he’s not doing this to bolster his ego, he’s behaving this way because all this is brand new for him. Gripping onto his shoulders I tilt my head so I can see his face.

“I’m barely holding it together here. I’m a hot mess and all you’ve done is look at me. Listen to what I’m telling you, Daryl. I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. Never.” And despite my happy marriage with Nick, what I’m saying is the truth. 

His quizzical eyes search my face and once he’s satisfied, he drops to his knees, almost taking me down with him he moves so fast. If I hadn’t braced myself against his strong shoulders, I’d have fallen to the floor but he gives me no time to ponder this as he removes my panties and kisses my thighs. As his lips and tongue draw shapeless patterns on my goose bumped skin, his hands guide me back, pushing my hips the few steps it takes to get me to the wall. And then he has me exactly where he wants me. 

Holding me tight, he nuzzles his way up my leg, higher and higher until his mouth gets to the place I need it the most. A breathy gasp leaves me and my hands thread into his hair earning me a contented noise of approval from Daryl. My senses are so heightened that the second his tongue swirls around my bundle of nerves I jolt from the intense flood of pleasure. 

“Oh God! Daryl!” I need to tell him to slow down, I need to beg him to let me catch my breath but I can’t. He continues sweeping his tongue around and around in tantalising circles, his hands pinning me to the wall, and as my world tips upside down, I throw back my head and close my eyes. Heat and pleasure build between my legs, growing and expanding and wiping my mind clear. My breathing spikes and my back arches as finally the ball of gratification opens up, stretching out to carry my orgasm around my entire body. Light bursts behind my eyelids and instead of coming down I keep ascending, higher and higher as yet even more pleasure explodes through my bloodstream, setting fire to my nerve endings and coating every inch of me in bliss. I pant, gulping down bursts of oxygen as my limbs tingle and my toes literally curl. My orgasm continues, wringing every last ounce of satisfaction from each of the atoms that make me, until it crescendos in an almighty wave, robbing me of sight, hearing and self-awareness. 

Shaking, I come down from my high slowly. My breathing is still irregular and as I open my eyes, I see Daryl standing, his hands wrapping around me to take the weight my legs can’t yet bare.

“Love ya,” he whispers, taking me over to the cot and sitting down, gently placing me down on top of him.

I’m a boneless, spent puddle of bliss. Nothing works as it should. My mind is spaced out, my limbs aren’t responding and my lungs can’t fill fast enough. As he melds me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin, I bask in the afterglow of the longest, most forceful orgasm I’d ever experienced. 

Time slips by and as the minutes pass I begin to regain control. First my thoughts return to a more coherent order, then my voice.

“I’ve never been loved that intensely before.” I admit.

Daryl chuckles and pulls me closer. “Good.”

“Daryl, you… “ I can’t think of the right words so I blurt out the only thing circling through my head. “I love you.” Flexing my fingers I’m pleased when they respond. Now it’s my turn to love him. Switching positions, I uncurl from his chest and move to straddle him. There’s a gleam of surprise in his eye but he doesn’t try to stop me. Threading my fingers through his hair I tilt his head and whisper into his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

He’s quick to answer. “You.”

Tracing the shell of his ear with the tip of my tongue, I allow my hand to reach between us, searching blindly until I brush against his erection. 

“How?” I press.

His eyes fall closed and his head tips back as I pump him lazily in my curled hand. He’s ready and willing but I want to love him, I want to show him that he means as much to me as I to him.

“Please,” he groans, the low rumble stirring the butterflies in the pit of my stomach. 

“How?” I ask, swallowing back the desire to just take him.

He pants heavily. “You. On top.” He struggles to speak and seeing him like this is fuelling the fire in my belly.

“Look at me.” My voice is hoarse and deep and commands his attention. He obeys, staring at me through heavy lidded eyes that scream his primal hunger. Locking my gaze to his, I lift up and position myself so I can feel his tip at my entrance and then slowly lower myself down onto him.

As he fills me I’m tempted to close my eyes and surrender to the desire but I don’t. It doesn’t matter how good it feels, how perfectly we fit together and how tempted I am to get lost in the physical pleasure, we keep hold our gaze steady. Even as I begin to rock gently back and forth and sparks of heat erupt inside me, I don’t move my eyes. 

Clear blues stare at me in wonder and lust, and I see his every emotion play in the depths of his pupils. My heart lurches and I lick my lips. This is so much more than sex. His hands grasp my hips and his breathing quickens but nothing separates the connection we’ve found. The rest of the world has faded into nothing and all that matters is us, joining together, loving one another. 

Catching his lips, I kiss him softly and the new angle draws a moan from deep within Daryl’s chest. Taking that as my lead, I wrap my arms around his neck and roll my hips faster, the friction between us creating a familiar tension in my lower belly. The quicker I move, the more it intensifies and soon I’m draped over his shoulder, suckling on his neck and tugging my fingers trough his hair.

Curses, soft and breathless, fall from his lips intertwined with declarations of love. As he gives into the sensations rocketing through him, his hands alternate between roughly grabbing my naked flesh and slowly stroking down my spine.

“Eden…”

I’m close to orgasm, I can feel the tightness drawing me in, getting ready to release yet another surge of blissful energy through my blood stream. Straightening up I arch my back and look down at Daryl. His mouth his hanging open and his pupils are blown, and I glow knowing that it’s me who is causing this mask of ecstasy. His eyes find mine and he begins to buck his hips.

“Come for me.” He growls, shifting one of his hands from my hips to between my legs and as his thumb brushes against me, the knot in my stomach unravels.

“Look at me!” His gravelly order snaps my eyes open and as rapture rips through my veins I watch as my hunter falls over the edge into his own abyss. Once again our eyes are glued to the other, drinking in the glorious sight before us. 

Daryl glows, his eyes shine and in this moment I have never been more in love. 

As we comedown I can’t hold my body up anymore and I collapse against his broad chest. A moment later he guides us down onto the cot so that I’m laid on top of him, a compliant ragdoll satiated by the physical manifestation of our love.

We lay in silence, our hands brushing against one another, stroking, soothing, loving. Words aren’t needed; we’ve said all we have to. And so we lay, in our bubble, sheltered from the atrocities surrounding us for a few precious hours and as I drift into an easy sleep, I pray that we’ll make it through the next few days unscathed because now, I know for sure, I can’t live without Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, long hiatus! Sorry for the delay in this chapter, hopefully you'll forgive me.


	26. Chapter 26

I wake hot and clammy. The sky is still dark and Daryl is next to me, his arm thrown around my shoulders, pinning me down. Sweat rolls down between my shoulder blades and as I try and swallow my throat erupts in flames that lick all the way down to my scorched lungs.

My heart thuds uneasily, beating an irregular rhythm that only increases in speed as I become aware of my situation. Rolling as carefully away from Daryl as I can, I drop my legs to the floor and silently heave myself up into a seated position. Bad idea. The second my head becomes vertical it swims sickeningly and thumps painfully. My fear is confirmed. I’m sick. 

Behind me, Daryl’s even breathing leads me to believe he’s actually still asleep for once. I’d turn around to confirm this suspicion but I’m afraid I’ll end up collapsing on top of him if I do. The urge to cough seizes my body but I stifle it. I don’t want to wake him, not yet, he deserves a few more hours of peace before he joins me in this nightmare. 

Oh god, what if he gets it too?

Moving slowly, I crawl from the cot to my bag in the corner. Thankfully it’s only really a stretch away and I manage to pull out what I need without making too much noise. Opening the front cover of one of the books I’d taken from our raid at the strip mall, I search blindly at the bottom of the bag for something to write with. Eventually I find an old eyeliner pencil. I’d used it long ago to mark trees so I could find my way back to the barn I’d be using as shelter.

Stifling another cough, I scrawl a quick note in the book explaining where I’d gone and begging Daryl to take care of himself. Laying it in my empty space in the cot I gingerly make my way to the door, allowing myself one last lingering look at the man I love.

The journey to A block takes forever. By the time I reach the door the first signs of morning have already appeared. Inside the building my temperature drops and my mood plummets as I see my new and possibly last home. Grey. Bleak. Miserable. I’d thought C block had been depressing but this place was something else.

Closing the glass and metal door firmly behind myself I stagger in past the first few barred cells. The shuffling of my boots and the spluttering of the ill echoes through the soul-crushing building and it hits me how bad this situation is. There are more people here than I’d realised, in fact, all the ground floor cells are occupied.

Reaching the metal staircase leading upstairs, I crumple into an ungainly heap, my body wracked with the spluttering gasps I’m heaving between coughing. No matter how big a breath I take, it’s not enough to put out the fire in my lungs or fill them. My breathing is constricted and painful and I’m burning up. 

But I can’t stay on the stairs forever, so I move, shuffling back until I’m able to lift myself up to the next step. I repeat this action and ten minutes later I lay down on an uncomfortable mattress, gripping hold of the metal frame to try and stop the room from spinning. All around, people cough and groan but my eyelids are too heavy and my mind too cloudy to pay attention. The walk over here has wiped me out. I need to rest. Propping my pillows against the wall, I manoeuvre my body into a half sitting half laying position and surrender to the darkness calling me.

* 

“Red, wake up. Drink this.”

I crack open one eye and try and focus on the person speaking. 

“It will help. C’mon, sit up, drink.”

Slowly white hair comes into focus and I recognise Hershel’s voice. He seems to be offering a container to me but I’m not interested, I just want to sleep.

“C’mon Red, drink this and then I’ll let you rest.” He waits but I can’t move, my limbs are too stiff, too heavy. “Please, I told Daryl I’d take care a ya.”

Daryl.

“How—“ I gasp for air and splutter. 

“Daryl’s fine, he’s taken a group to get the medicine we need.” Hershel forces a container to my lips. “You’ve been out cold for a while. You’re dehydrated. You really need to drink this if you’re gonna get better.”

It’s hard work but I manage to sit up. My whole body protests and I wince, at least I think I do, I’m not sure of anything right now. Swallowing down some of the liquid I pick through the fog in my mind. I remember it taking me forever to get up the steps. I remember the ache in my arms as I dragged my overheating body up the metal steps and I recall the crawl along the runway to find an empty bed. Screwing up my eyes, I reopen them and look out of the bars. It’s dark gain.

“What time is it?” My voice seems to have eased with the foul drink so I force some more down. Hershel nods his approval.

“It’s night. You been out cold all day. Managed to get some water into ya a few hours ago but you were still pretty out of it.”

I finish the drink and chase away the remnants of sleep by trying to shake my head. Only it doesn’t work, instead I end up slumping to the side and coughing violently.

“Take it easy.” 

“Why you… in here?” I wheeze, propping up my failing body against the wall once again.

“Y’all needed help. I can help.” He states it like it’s the most reasonable thing on earth and it brings a wry smile to my lips. But a heartbeat later it’s gone.

“Maggie? Beth?” They are the only two reasons I could imagine for bringing him in here willingly.

“They’re fine. Maggie’s out clearin’ the fence an’ Beth’s lookin’ after Judith in the administration block.”

I relax back as I absorb his words. “How many others are sick?”

“I best be goin’, tryna get around everyone.” Hershel smiles as he exits my cell as fast as he can.

“Hersh—“ Again my lungs burn and I choke on air. Who would have thought breathing was so hard?

He pauses but answers. “We’re almost full in here.”

“Let me help.” I push up and stagger to the doorway, my led feat dragging along the concrete floor.

“No, you’re in a bad way, you need to rest.”

“I can—“

“Doctors orders. Stay in your cell and rest, I’ll come back to check on you later.” The smile he gives me doesn’t quite make it to his eyes and even in my exhaustion I can see he’s weary.

“Don’t—“ A fire erupts in my lungs and I wheeze hard. Coughing and spluttering I try to catch my breath but it won’t come. My chest is being squeezed and the pressure forces tears to my eyes but I still can’t get enough oxygen. Falling to my knees I drop my hands down, my eyesight is dimming and I’m sure I can taste blood.

“C’mon, take it easy, just relax.”

Dizzy, disoriented and wrung out I don’t fight the hands that pull me towards the bed. 

“Now you listen here,” Hershel lays me on my side, bending over to wipe the sweaty hair from my forehead, “I promised Daryl I’d take care a ya in here. Don’ you go givin’ that boy any reason’ to doubt me. Ya do as I tell ya, an’ ya rest.” There’s no anger in his voice but his tone is firm.

Unable to fill my lungs I simply nod and wait for the breathlessness to subside. Not that I think it will but laying down seems to have alleviated some of the pressure.

“Good, now stay here. I’ll come check on ya when I can.”

I’m not sure if Hershel has left or if I’m now sharing my cell with a newcomer because suddenly I can hear a gurgle and rasping close by. Whatever the hell it is sounds god-awful and is turning my stomach.

“You’ll be okay. We both will.”

Prying open my eyes I find Glenn slumped down the opposite wall. His face is glistening with sweat and his dark hair is plastered to his forehead.

“Not you too—“ I cough again, wincing in pain as bile scorches my throat. At least, I hope it’s bile.

“Yeah…” His voice trails off as the darkness clouds my vision again. I’m passing out. This can’t be good.

As I succumb to unconsciousness all I can think of is poor Maggie, stuck outside left wondering if her daddy and husband are going to make it through. In my minds eye I see her gorgeous, smiling face and pray that if it comes down to it she and Daryl will survive without us.

*

A gunshot echoes through the cavernous building pulling me into the waking world. Outside my cell I hear the telltale moans of walkers and my heart leaps into my throat. In doing so it blocks my airway and I struggle to gasp in any air. Groping blindly my hand connects with the bars of the doorway and I’m able to pull myself up. 

More shouting. More panic. 

Struggling up, I manage to get myself into a seated position just in time to witness the salivating walker dragging itself into my cell. The sound of its groaning loud enough to pierce my brain and blur my vision. I can’t think straight and I can’t see. Terror curls around me, pinning my limbs to my sides and speeding my heart until the pain of it thrashing inside my ribcage brings me to my knees. Sliding to the floor with the walker looming over me, I spew out a mouthful of blood, gasping and wheezing as liquid bubbles inside my lungs.

This is it. I’m going to die. 

A hand connects with my back and out of impulse I roll away, blindly heading in the opposite direction until I connect with the cell wall under my cot. More sticky hot fluid dribbles down my chin and my eyes stream with tears as my body trembles through lack of oxygen. I can’t catch my breath and I’m cornered. 

In a haze of disoriented confusion I run my hands along my belt, searching for my knives. Dragging my hands numbly across my torso I feel nothing, my fingers as dead to me as the walker staggering to the floor to get to me. My head swims and my lungs give out and just as I’m about ready to stop fighting a vision of Daryl fills my mind. 

I want to give up. I’m exhausted and dying anyway, and yet the image of Daryl is a reminder that this isn’t just about me anymore. Had I have listened to him in the first place I probably wouldn’t be in this situation so the very least I can do for the man I love is to fight until my last breath.

Forcing air into my body I kick out as hard as I can, connecting with something solid. The exertion leaves me choking on liquid but I don’t stop. I can’t. 

Everything hurts. My body is being scorched by the flames licking at my insides and my head is a cacophony of protests. 

I can’t do this but I have to. It hurts too much and I can’t breathe but Daryl needs me. I can’t be so weak.

The walker has recovered and as I attempt another kick it grabs my leg, through the tears and the gloom I’m sure I see it wedge something that belongs to me, one of my extremities, into its mouth, but I can’t feel anything other than this perpetual, all encompassing inferno consuming my flesh.

I’m beat. I’ve been bitten. There’s nothing left but death. As this thought settles over me I’m suddenly angry. I’d made it so far only to succumb to a walker because of the goddamn flu! 

No! 

Renewed energy flows through my veins and I stamp my free foot onto the walker’s skull. Over and over I kick and thrash, until inevitably by body gives out and I let go, drifting into the peaceful darkness and bidding farewell to a world gone to hell.


	27. Chapter 27

My eyes flutter open before I’m completely conscious. Blurred shapes fill my vision and something presses down onto my face. Noise, incomprehensible and far too loud, fills my ears and I wince as my head pulses. It’s light and as my focus clears I can see the shapes around me are in fact people. A white head hovers over me and a few seconds later I can distinguish Hershel’s familiar, eye crinkling smile.

“Well look who’s awake.”

What ever has been touching my face moves, startling me. I attempt to shift but my nerves seem to be disconnected from my brain and no longer receiving the signals required to work my limbs.

“Red?” Daryl moves into my line of vision as he whispers my name and presses a cold and damp strip of material to my brow.

In a flash, it all comes back to me. The gunshots, the unmistakable growls of walkers, the tussle in this very cell. As memories flood my mind I close my eyes knowing that what I’m about to say will kill Daryl. 

“I got bit.” I whisper, my voice scratchy and hoarse. “Walker… bit me.”

“What?” The pain in Daryl’s strangled cry slams into me and even though I’m the one dying my concern is only for the man hovering over me.

“It’s alright,” Hershel says, “I checked you over, you’ve no bite wounds.”

I shake my head. “It bit me, I saw—“ I splutter noisily, turning my face to the wall as my lungs burn in agony.

“Where?” 

“I’m telling you, I’ve checked her over thoroughly and there are no bite marks on her.”

When I dare to open my eyes, Daryl is stood over me, his eyes scanning my flesh as he quickly moves my clothing to check my arms and legs. “Here.” He points to my foot. “On her boot, look!”

I try to sit up and see what he’s talking about but my body still won’t cooperate. Gritting my teeth, I stare up at the concrete ceiling and try and pick through my hazy recollection of events. I distinctly remember the thing biting me…

“S’alright, Red, ya good.” Daryl perches on the side of the bed and runs the back of his hand down my cheek. “Chewed ya boot, nothin’ more, ya fine.”

My boot! I’m alive because I’m wearing boots. I let out a slight huff of amusement and relax into the thin, lumpy mattress. Saved by my practical wardrobe, how ironic. A gentle hand coaxes my face towards the door and before I know what’s happening, Daryl is pressing his lips to my forehead. Once again, my eyes close and I give in to the comfort of his touch. 

“Now don’t go falling asleep just yet Red, I need you to drink this.” Hershel pulls me from my state of relaxation and I pry my eyes open. 

“C’mon.” Daryl hooks his hands under me and lifts me up. “Faster ya drink this, faster ya heal.” 

Looking at his face I can see the emotional scarring of the past few days. I don’t know what he’s been through but from the looks of him, it’s been hell. With his help I manage to stay propped up against the wall and his torso, and take the mug of liquid from Hershel. It’s bitter and unpleasant as the cold drink hits my tongue. Screwing up my face I attempt to push it away but Daryl’s not having any of it.

“Gotta have it all.” His tone is apologetic as he nudges the mug back to my lips.

“Drink it up and then you can get some rest.” Hershel smiles but it does little to conceal the exhaustion on his worn features. 

“You both look like hell.” I remark, wincing at the pain in my throat.

“Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.” The older man answers lightly.

“Thank you.” It’s all I can muster and it’s frustrating as I want to say a whole lot more but my body is too broken.

His white head dips once in acknowledgement as he retrieves the now empty mug. “I’ll call back in a little while, ‘till then try and rest.” His eyes move to the man sat cradling me. “You too, get some sleep.”

“M’ alright” Daryl mutters.

“Doctors orders!” Hershel rebukes, shuffling wearily out of the cell.

“How long?” I swallow and clear my throat trying to encourage my vocal chords to function properly. “How long have I been here?”

Pulling me closer, Daryl rests his chin on my head and wraps both arms around me tightly. “Don’ matter now, you need ta sleep.”

“So do you.”

“’M good.” He argues softly but he’s not. He needs to rest up just as much as I do. 

“Stay with me?” I force my aching muscles to work and tilt myself back so I can see his face. His usually sparkling eyes are dull and bloodshot and he’s caked in a new layer of blood and grime. He really does look like hell. “Please? Just for n—“

He surprises and silences me with an acquiescing nod and I swear I see relief in his heavy lidded eyes. “Jus’ for a bit,” he mumbles, moving us so that I’m laid with my back to his chest. I’m shocked and worried at how easily he was convinced, I’d expected him to put up much more of a fight but clearly he had nothing left in him. Just what had he been through whilst I’d been in here? As he wraps his body around mine, I thread my fingers though his and squeeze. With his warmth surrounding me I can already feel consciousness slipping out of my grasp but there was one thing I had to do before I let go.

“I love you.” It sounds ugly in my rasping voice but he doesn’t seem to care. Despite his obvious fatigue he pulls me closer, pinning me against his body and kissing the side of my face.

“Love ya, Eden an’ I’d fucking die a thousand times for ya if I had to but don’ ever leave me on ma own like that again, ya hear me? Don’ care what ya thought ya was doin’, ya fucked up. Anythin’ like this ever happens again, ya stick to me like glue. No fuckin’ notes, no fuckin’ excuses. Ya stay with me, understand?”

I’m too tired to fight so I nod in agreement. 

“Good, now sleep.”

I don’t need telling twice. Closing my heavy eyes I slip into slumber, safe in the comfort of my lovers arms.

* * *

By the time the next morning dawns I’ve had my fill of antibiotics and sleep. I’m desperate to get out of this god-awful prison block and back to the roof but Daryl’s not sold on the idea.

“Ya need to be here, near Hershel.” He folds his arms defensively over his chest, blocking the doorway with his large frame. 

“I need to be in the sun, breathing fresh air, not cooped up in this damn cell.” I cough slightly, the fight stealing my breath but it no longer burns in my lungs. Daryl raises his brow as I wheeze quietly and stares at me pointedly. “What?” I growl. “I’m aware I’m not right yet, I’m not stupid, but I am better than I was and I’d be better still if you didn’t insist on keeping me locked in here.”

“I told ya—“

“Well I’m done listening.” I snap peering over his shoulder wistfully.

He shifts his weight and rubs his hand over his mouth. “Alright, you can go back to the roof,” he glares at me, “but ya gotta promise you’ll rest. Don’t wanna see ya doin’ nothin’ dumb like tryna help clear up the mess outside or fence clearin’.”

“What ever you say, just let me out of this hell hole.”

“Mean it, Eden. Ya didn’t listen to me last time—“

“I swear, I’ll rest. I won’t lift a finger until you think I’m healthy enough, I’ll do exactly what you say, I’ll be good!” I’m leaning forward, perching on the very edge of the cot practically begging for my freedom.

“An ya gotta eat more.” Daryl raises his chin, narrowing his eyes as he realises his newfound power over me. 

I can’t stop my eyes from rolling. “I’m a free person, you know. I—“

He lowers his voice. “If y’ain’t gonna agree to ma terms ya stay right here.”

My mouth clamps shut with an audible snap and I grind my teeth. He has me over a barrel. The rest of the prison will side with Daryl and unless I want to be nagged and complained at for the foreseeable future I know I have no other choice but to agree to his ridiculous demands.

“Fine. What ever you say.”  


The corner of his mouth twitches but he’s wise enough to suppress a smile. “I’ma be watchin’ ya too. Ain’t gonna be like b’fore. Y’ain’t gonna wander off, puttin’ y’self in harms way—“

“Okay, alright, I get it. From here on out I’m your bitch. Sit. Stay. Be good.”

His expression clouds over and his brows furrow. “Ain’t like that an’ ya know it.”

Biting my lower lip I drop my gaze to the floor and sigh. I know he’s trying to protect me and who can blame him after what went down, but his overbearing need to keep me safe is stifling. “I’m sorry.” With effort, I stand and cautiously amble towards him. “I’m a terrible patient, I know. I don’t mean to be it’s just—“

“Ya too stubborn fer ya own good.” There’s a smile in his inflection and when I look up I see it resonating out of his beautiful blue eyes.

“Please. Let’s get out of here. I want to sleep in my own bed and feel the sun on my skin.”

His all-seeing gaze sweeps over me before he gives the smallest of nods. Uncrossing his arms he slips one around my waist and pulls me firmly to his side, supporting me as we make our way towards the staircase. Within ten minutes I’m wincing against the bright sun and taking in the horrors that surround the blocks.

“What the--?” Walkers lay littered across the yard, their carcasses strewn as far as my eyes can see.

“Fence fell but Rick an’ Carl stopped ‘em.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah.” His hold tightens on me as I eye the people down by the fence trying to repair the damage. “Don’ even think about it, Red.” He warns lowly.

“I…” Pursing my lips I turn to look at him. Although he’s hardly left my side since his return and has rested as much as I have, he still looks worn and fragile. It reminds me of what he’s been through in the past week and settles the demon stirring in my head. “When I’m well I’ll help.” I tell him, watching as his shoulders relax. 

“C’mon,” He mutters in a gruff command, sweeping my legs out from under me and carrying me back to our shared camp. 

“I can walk, Daryl.” 

He ignores me and I know not to fight him. For what ever reason he needs to be the one to get me where I want to be although I’m sure the climb up the stairs will all but kill him. Of course, he’s stronger than he looks and he manages it with relative ease, impressing me with his level of stamina amongst everything else.

“You’re fucking super human, you know that right?” I announce as he places me gently down on my cot. “I mean it. When the rest of them have fallen, you’ll be the last man standing.”

“Ya high on your meds or somethin’?” Daryl mumbles as he straightens up. I catch hold of his hand before he can walk away.

“I know I’ve been a giant pain in the ass but what you did… what you do. I wouldn’t be here without you. None of us would. We’d all be dead if it weren’t for you. If you hadn’t got the antibiotics…”

“Didn’t do it for them.” He looks away, scowling out at the trees and my heart constricts.

“I’m sorry, Daryl. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I—“

“What’s done is done. Can’t change nothin’.” He shrugs, his eyes still searching the horizon.

Letting his hand slip from mine, I stare out at the familiar view. “I fought the walker. The one that bit me.” He turns in surprise. “Even though I couldn’t breathe, or see properly or… Because of you I fought for my life not because I wanted to live, I mean I did but… What I’m trying to say is that what ever comes next, I won’t run in headfirst because I know I have someone else to consider. It’s not just me anymore. It matters if something happens to me because—“

“It always mattered. You always mattered!” He’s pissed, that much is obvious from his tone.

Closing my eyes I heave a sigh, which quickly turns into a splutter. Catching my breath, I run a hand through my hair and attempt to explain myself. “That’s not how it works for me. You know that. Without someone to need me, to want me, I’m worthless—“ He tries to interject but I wave his protests away. “You know why I’m programmed this way and the wiring’s not about to change. It doesn’t matter anyway because what I’m saying is I’ve a reason to fight now, a reason to be careful, so you don’t have to worry about me going off half cocked. I’m going to take better care of myself so you don’t have to. There’s nothing more important to me in this world, than you and I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe and happy.”

He hums a gravelly tone at the back of his throat and narrows his eyes as he looks at me. “An’ what if somethin’ happens to me? Ya gonna give up?”

This conversation was not going to plan. All I’d wanted to do was thank him for what he’d done and reassure him I wasn’t about to do anything else stupid. 

“Look,” licking my lips I wring my hands together nervously, “I just wanted to say thanks and sorry, okay? I can see you’ve been through hell recently and I’m sorry my actions contributed to it. I don’t know how to thank you for saving us other than reassure you I’ll be on my best behaviour from here on out.”

Chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully, he looks me up and down. “Ya wanna thank me?”

“Yes.”

“An ya sorry.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, then here’s what ya gonna do. Ya gonna swear that no matter what happens ya’ll fight. Don’ care what happens, how hard it gets, you gonna find a way t’ live. With or without me. Ya gotta promise ya’ll carry on, ya’ll live.”

“What the—“

“I thought I’d lost ya, Red. Saw myself diggin’ ya grave an’ sayin’ goodbye.” His rough voice catches and breaks. “But see, I realized somethin’. I realized that I can do anythin’ s’long as I know ya still fightin’, still tryin’. Y’ain’t like the rest, ya don’ roll over, ya don’ die. You fuckin’ fight ‘cos it’s all ya ever known, it’s what ya are. So you keep fightin’ an’ ya damn well keep survivin’ cos I ain’t gonna be the last one standin’. You are. Ya wanna make me happy, ya make the damn promise that no matter what, y’ain’t never gonna give up!”

My mouth falls open and I’m rendered speechless. His eyes hold the weight of his emotions and it’s crushing to look at. Unable to breathe properly and lost for words the only thing I manage is a short, stiff nod of my head.

“Ya swear?” His large hands grasp mine and squeeze. Again I nod and watch as he sinks to his knees in front of me. “Ya my survivor, Eden, ain’t nothin’ gotta change that. Ya fight an ya survive, an as long as ya do that, I promise to do the same.”

“I’ll never stop fighting.” I whisper.

His hand threads into my hair and he pulls me into his embrace, tucking me under his chin. Holding me tight, his breathing becomes ragged but then he moves and brings his lips down on mine and all thoughts leave my mind as I reconnect with the man I love.


	28. Chapter 28

“I should be helpin’”

Lifting my head from his chest, I look down at Daryl, stretched out on my bed. “You are exactly where you should be. Resting. You’ve done enough, let someone else take a turn.”

He blows out a breath before jamming his thumb into his mouth and chewing on the nail. With his other arm tucked under his head, he looks tense and I know him well enough to realize he’s going to go and help, regardless of what I say. Rolling my eyes, I sit up, readying myself to stand and let him go but he surprises me by catching hold of the top of my arm and dragging me back to his solid chest.

“Lay down,” he orders gruffly.

Shaking my arm free I turn, resting on my hip and leaning over to look into his pensive eyes. “Thought you wanted to help.” 

His gaze flicks away and he wrinkles his nose. “Nah.”

“Liar.” He’s going to go; I know it as does he. “Just go already. Do what you’ve got to do. You’re not going to settle ‘till you have.” I pull away and casually wander to the edge of the building, taking in the few people milling around below me. Michonne is still dragging the bodies to the trailer and taking them outside the gates to burn. Surveying the mess from up here it’s clear that she’s going to be at it for a while longer. 

“Don’ do that.” Daryl appears by my side and takes hold of my upper arm again, towing me away from the edge. “Ya not right yet, one dizzy spell an’ ya’d be gone.” I allow him to guide me back to our shelter, not because he’s right but because I promised I’d do as he asked. Apart from fatigue and a persistent cough I’m already feeling much better after just a few doses of antibiotics.

“I’m fine, I don’t feel dizzy or sick anymore, just a little tired.”

“So sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when you do.” I counter, dropping my head to hide my scowl. 

“I ain’t sick.” He hooks a finger under my chin and coaxes my face to his. His clear blues search my features before settling on my gaze and staring intently. There’s something in his eyes, something I can’t put my finger on and it unnerves me. The way he’s looking at me is all wrong, there’s no love in his gaze, no warmth, instead it’s full of concern and… regret?

“I feel fine, Daryl. Honestly. The meds are doing their thing and I’m getting better.” 

His hand moves and cupping my cheek he coaxed my face into the curve of his neck. Holding me close he inhales deeply as his other arm wraps around my waist. I’ve noticed he’s doing this more often, manipulating us so that he doesn’t have to look at me. Slowly the cogs in my head begin to turn. He’s sick of piecing you back together. A malicious voice sneers quietly, blocking all other thoughts from my mind. Gritting my teeth I pull out of Daryl’s grasp and walk back to my cot. 

“Just go. Do what you’ve got to. I’ll be fine.” I can’t look at him with my insecurities eating away at me, not after everything he’s done, not after he’s just saved my life. He deserves better than that, even if my gut is right.

“Red?”

I shake my head softly and settle back on my cot, the blankets beneath me still warm from his body. 

“Really, I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll stay here and rest whilst you go do your thing. I’m not blind Daryl, and I know you well enough to understand your need to help, so go. Do what you do.” I meant for it to sound encouraging and supportive but even I can hear the hollowness in my tone. 

In three long strides, Daryl is stood over me, hands on hips and a scowl on his face. “Why ya gotta do that huh?”

“What?”

“Ya know fine well what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Ya pushin’ me away.”

Pride tells me to keep my mouth shut and even though I’m desperate to find out why he won’t look at me I swallow down my burning curiosity. 

“I’m not,” I lie, “I’m trying to make it easier for you. I just want to make you happy.”

“Bullshit!” He’s growing more and more agitated as he starts to pace the small area. “Ya been distant ever since we got back up here. If there’s somethin’ ya wanna say, jus’ say it.”

“Me distant?” I can’t keep it in. “You can’t even stand to look at me.”

“What ya talkin’ ‘bout, woman?”

My mouth opens but as I’m about to speak I remember my promise. No matter what, I’m not about to put anything else at his door. He’s done enough for me already. With resignation I control my voice, trying to sound even and calm. “If you think I’ve been distant, I’m sorry. It’s not been intentional.” I sit up and risk laying my hands on his forearms to stop his pacing. “I guess I’m just trying to process everything that happened.”

Daryl snatches back his hands and moves out of my reach. “Don’ lie to me, Red.”

My hands ball into fists and I battle the urge to run away from the impending conversation. I know what’s about to happen, I’ve connected the dots. Daryl’s had enough. It’s not just my insecurities, his actions and words add up to one thing and one thing only. 

“Fine.” Blowing out a breath I ignore the creeping nausea. “If I’m being distant it’s only because I’m reacting to you. It’s obvious something’s changed because you can’t even look at me. I wasn’t going to say anything because you’ve done too much for me already, I was trying to give you the out you need without all the drama but seeing as your determined to do it this way…” 

“The hell ya talkin’ ‘bout?” His eyes find mine and are full of uncertainty and confusion. “The hell is goin’ on in that head a yers?”

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Daryl. It’s… You made me promise to carry on, even without you, and you’re desperate to get away from me, you can’t look me in the eye… I’m not stupid, I know what it all means.”

His answering scowl makes it clear I have to spell it out for him.

“We’re done. I get it and I get why you didn’t just come out and say it—“

Daryl’s expression explodes with fury and he clenches his left fist as he jabs his right index finger towards me. “Don’ think I don’ see what this is! Ya think I ain’t smart enough to figure it out but I know exactly what ya doin’.”

“Jesus, Daryl, I’m giving you what you want!”

“What I want?” He spits furiously. “An’ jus’ what the hell is it ya think I want, huh?”

“To leave. To walk away without hurting me. You want to be free.” The words almost choke me but I fight through the agony and say them none the less. 

In an instant his expression evolves. Horror and disbelief cause his eyes to widen and his snarl to drop. “I… Wha… Ya think…?” He steps back, staring at me with his mouth open. 

I clear my throat. “You’ve done more for me than… There’s no hard feelings, I… I owe you everything—“ I can’t carry on. 

“Eden—“

“Just, give me a little time.” I beg standing up and slipping past him. “I just need some space.”

“Ya wrong!”

At his words I want to turn and run to him but I know it’s only his knee-jerk reaction to what’s happening. Everything makes sense now, from what he’s said to how he’s acted. He’s too kind, too good to walk away from me when he thinks I need him the most, but I won’t be the noose around his neck. I won’t be the anchor that drowns him. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do this.”

“If ya wanna walk away, if ya done with me then go, but don’ act like this is on me. I ain’t the one endin’ this.” 

“Then why?” Holding back the tears I brave a quick glance in his direction.

“What?”

“When you look at me, it’s not like before. It’s… Cold.” I finally find the word I’ve been searching for that accurately describes the look in his eyes.

He shakes his head and scoffs. “Ain’t nothin’, ya seein’ things that ain’t there.”

“Daryl, please. I have many faults but I know when something’s wrong. Something happened and now we’re different, we’re… broken, it’s no ones fault it just happens sometimes.” I feel sick and numb and empty all at once.

“Ya think… we’re broken?” He asks quietly.  
I swallow down the lump in my throat and shrug. “I think you need to take some time, figure out exactly what it is you want. My feelings haven’t changed but it’s clear yours have.” Dragging my heavy limbs I walk to the doorway, glancing back over my shoulder. “I’ll be around, Daryl. If you… If it doesn’t work out…” I can’t finish my sentence so I do the only thing I can and disappear into the dark of the stairwell.


	29. Chapter 29

The sun is fighting through the mist as I hide out in the shooting yard. The weather isn’t quite as settled as it usually is and I’m glad, it suits my mood perfectly. I’m reeling from the conversation with Daryl, after everything, after almost dying I can’t believe this is where we are. Sitting down I play with the knife on my belt and allow the tears to fall. I don’t quite know what’s happening. How the hell did we end up here when just a few nights ago… My mind circles the events, replaying everything over and over until I’m dizzy and sick of it all. I need air and I need space. But first I need my long blades. Poking my head around the gate, I scan the immediate area, relieved to see it empty. Carefully I make my way to the roof. Michonne has done a good job clearing the yard of walkers and for once it’s eerily quiet. 

It takes me longer than it should to retrieve my blades, the hike up and then back down the stairs taking its toll but thankfully I still don’t bump into anyone. It’s like the prison is suddenly deserted and I’m grateful. I’m not sure I could hold it together if I walked into the wrong person. There’s only one place I want to be right now and it’s not behind the huge fences. No. I need to be free, to remind myself that I can survive anything, even the decimation of my already shredded heart.

Leaving the prison isn’t difficult. There are no walkers to dodge and no one to ask questions as I step through the gate. Listening to the crunch of my boots on the dirt track and the wind caressing the leaves I can almost pretend that the prison and Daryl were both just a dream, something my mind made up to counter the loneliness of my endless wander. Almost. If only I couldn’t recall the touch of his skin against mine, or the way his mouth hitched up in the smallest of smiles. If those memories were gone perhaps I wouldn’t feel so… empty.

Keeping the prison just out of sight, I meander aimlessly through the undergrowth. It’s so calm and peaceful out here that I find myself sinking into the soft grass and leaning my head back against a tree to soak up the tranquillity. Nothing stirs. There are no moans and dragging of feat, no screams or sobbing, just the sound of nature doing what it does best. Inhaling a long, deep breath I blow it out of my mouth and coax my shoulders to relax, letting go of the tension I’ve been carrying. Repeating this a few more times leaves me calm and settled and stupidly I allow my conscious to drift. Maybe it’s the physical exercise or maybe it’s the motional exhaustion, either way it doesn’t take me long to slip into a restful sleep.

* * *

Rough, strong hands push me face first into the grass, binding my wrists tightly behind my back. By the time I’m aware of my surroundings and what’s happening I’ve been hauled to my feet and had my knives confiscated. Shaking my head to clear the remnants of sleep and confusion, I look around. I’m still outside the compound only now the area is full of noise as people and vehicles rumble past. 

Shit. This is not good.

Twisting, I thrash against my assailant trying to get a look at who ever it is but I don’t recognise the man when he finally turns me and shoves me painfully against a tree. My head smacks the trunk ad the rough bark presses through my top, scratching my back and rubbing agonizingly against my spine.

“Well would you believe it, look who it is! Didn’t think I’d be seeing your pretty face again, sweetheart!”

A second man approaches from behind and smirks as he positions himself in front of me, flanking his partner. “Well hello again, princess.” He glances around and licks his lips. “On your own today? No boyfriend to protect you?”

I peer at their faces trying to see past my fear and jog my memory but I can’t pin them down. Who are these men? What are they doing here?

“Don’t think she remembers us,” the first man chuckles with his friend before addressing me. “In the clearing by the river, your boyfriend threatened us after you were so kind to take out a dozen walkers that had been following us.”

A sickening thud in my chest takes me back to the day he’s talking about and in an instant I remember. The day Daryl and I had gone to the clinic. The day we’d shared our first kiss. The day these men had allowed a defenceless girl get ripped to shreds to save their own sorry asses.

“You sick bastards, you sacrificed that poor girl. You fucking lowlife scum—“

A harsh slap snaps my face to the right and splits my lip. 

“You’d better be a lot nicer to us if you want to survive this thing.” The first man spits.

Licking the blood from my lips I glare at the two men. “What do you want?” 

“You’ll see.”

“No she won’t.” A deep voice calls from somewhere behind me. “You two go, I’ll stay and guard this one. Jack’s waiting for you by the tank.”

Tank! These people have a tank? 

“Wait! Please. What’s happening? What do you want?” 

A tall, stocky man with salt and pepper hair rounds the trees and saunters over to stand in front of me. He looks down at his feet, drawing my attention to the pile of knives, _my_ knives, thrown in a heap.

“Do you know how to use all of these?” His voice is soft and inquisitive and he wears a small smile on his face.

“What’s happening? Please, tell me what’s happening.” 

“I asked first. You answer my question then I’ll answer yours. Deal?” He cocks his head, waiting for my reply. 

“Yes. I know how to use them, now please tell me what’s going on.” I beg shamelessly.

“We’re here for the prison, nothing more. We don’t want to hurt anyone, as long as your people don’t try anything stupid, there’ll be no blood shed today.” He scowls as he looks at my face before letting out a quiet curse. “Those morons hurt you.” His brows pull down as he reaches out and wipes my chin with his thumb. “There’ll be no _more_ blood spilled.” He clarifies.

“Who are you? Where are you from?”

“First tell me your name.”

Pulling against my restraints I ball my fists and dig my nails into my palms. I should be doing something not playing twenty questions with this stranger.

“Red, my name is red.”

“Interesting name.” He smiles again and dips down to pick up my blades. “I’m James. I joined this group a few weeks ago after the last bunch I was with got themselves eaten by the rotters. One of our group found this place, actually said he knew of it already and well… One thing led to another and here we are.” He studies one of my knives, turning it over in his large hands. “Like I said, we don’t want a fight, we just need a safe place to stay.”

“We have lots of room. You didn’t have to come heavy handed, we take people in all the time.”

The ground shakes and my ears ache as a sound like thunder echoes through the forest. Spinning around I rush towards the prison and break through the tree line to see the tank and the smouldering remains of one of the watch towers. I want to scream but instead I lunge forward, desperately trying to get back to the prison. I don’t get far. After just two steps I’m tugged back and held against a firm, unyielding body.

“Whoa there Nelly, you’re better staying back here with me.” James pulls me back a few more steps so the greenery hides me. “I’m not entirely sure how this is going to play out. Best keep you out of harms way for now.” 

“I could help.”

“I doubt that. Just you wait here, I’ll be right back.” 

He lets me go momentarily but before I can do anything he snatches my wrists and uses the rope around them to tie me to a tree. Checking the knots he pulls firmly and I’m sure I’m going to have welts and bruises if I ever get the restraints off. 

“Stay quiet,” he instructs, tossing my blades haphazardly at my feet and striding confidently away.

As soon as he’s out of sight I begin working at the rope around my flesh, yanking, twisting, pulling, anything to break free. In the near distance I can hear a commotion. Someone is shouting and things sound tense. That can’t be good. Closing my eyes I double my efforts to rid my wrists of these restraints but it’s no use, they’re too thick. A trickle of blood seeps down the inside of my forearm and I curse softly as the rope burn stings. 

More shouting. More frustration. 

And then all hell breaks loose. Guns fire and I hear the tank start up. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. A scream bubbles out of me and I use every last ounce of strength to pull against the ropes. They bite tighter into my already abused skin and cut deeper, grating through the thin covering of my wrists until the material is slick enough with blood to allow me to work one hand free. I hardly notice the pain as I stretch out and grasp a knife to cut through the remaining bind. I’m far too preoccupied with the noises coming from the prison. It sounds like a war zone.

With only one person on my mind I stoop down and collect my weapons, working quickly to secure them in place as I dash back to the prison. Crashing through the trees I lurch forward, hardly able to believe what I’m seeing. The tank has torn through the fence, the building is on fire and a gunfight is raging in the fields and yards. It’s a warzone. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and smoke and its choking as I catch my breath, pausing to assess the best route in. I have no choice but to follow the path of destruction left by this hostile group.  
Running at full speed I’m about to cross the threshold where the fence once stood when something catches my eye. Glancing from the bloody scene ahead to the thing on the floor my heart stutters as I process exactly what it is I’m seeing. Bile scorches my throat and tears burn in my eyes. It’s Hershel. Or was. His severed head stares blankly up at the azure sky, emotionless. Dead.

“Oh god!”

But there isn’t time to mourn. In the exercise yard people are screaming and guns are firing round after round. The noise is deafening and the scent of death is unmistakable. 

Pushing my grief to one side and focusing on the anger, I quickly wipe my palms on my trousers and draw my knives. Someone will pay for this, someone will pay for Hershel’s murder. The first three people don’t see me coming and go down heavily. Guilt, ugly and raw, gnaws at me as I end their lives but I can’t let it derail me. These people are here to kill my friends, my family and I sure as hell won’t stand by a second time and watch those I love die because of my incompetence. It’s us or them.

I head up the sloping field and as I reach the yard I spot Daryl. He’s next to Beth with his cross bow in his hands. My heart jumps and for a brief moment I allow myself a breath. He’s still alive. His gaze connects with mine for a second and in the flash of his blues I see panic and disbelief. His gaze barely sweeps over me before he looks back at Beth. 

“Dar—“ His name is knocked from my body as something grabs my ankles and pulls, dragging me down to the floor and sending me careering back down the slope. Somewhere along the way I drop my knives and landing in a heap I’m forced face down into the mud when a heavy weight crashes down on top of me.

“Shut up!” A harsh voice growls in my ear.

“Get off me!” I’m tired, weak and drained but it doesn’t stop me from fighting. My people need me and I won’t let them down. As I break free from the man’s grasp I lunge to my feet and run, my eyes searching the area I’d last seen Daryl and Beth but they’re gone. Sprinting up the incline I catch a final glance of the pair of them as they flee into the woods, leaving me far behind.

Leaving me alone with the enemy. 

Leaving me…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned this as a two part series and we're coming to the end of part one, however, just wondering if you'd prefer me to just continue it as one fic or start the second part as a new fic. Let me know what you want and thanks for reading :)


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING  
> Triggers for violence, depression, abuse, suicidal thoughts.

The prison, our home, is decimated. Holes litter the walls and smoke billows up into the empty sky. The fences I’d spent so long complaining about are down and now the place is overrun with walkers. Our sanctuary, our safe haven, all gone. And that’s not even the worst of it. Not for me.

Tears sting my eyes and obscure my vision, and I dash them away angrily before they can fall. How dare these people come here and do this! Whilst most of them are now dragging their reanimated bodies around the yard or lay in a pool of their own blood I still need them to pay. This is all their fault.

But they didn’t force Daryl to leave me here. No. That was his choice. He saw me; he looked right at me before turning and fleeing with Beth. I guess he made his choice and it had nothing to do with the group who wrecked our community.

I continue to watch the prison from the bed of the truck as it speeds down the road in the opposite direction, carrying me away from everything I knew. Well, almost everything. My beautiful knives are being examined by the man next to me although it’s perfectly clear he has no idea how to use them. He raises one to my face and smiles a black tooth smile as he drags the tip along my left cheek, peeling me open like an orange. Thankfully I’m too numb, too shocked to feel it, although I still yank on my restraints.

After Daryl had disappeared into the forest I’d stood, open mouthed and unmoving. How could he just leave without a single backwards glance? Had I really meant so little to him?

That’s where they’d found me. It could have been seconds or minutes later, I don’t know, and in all honesty, why should I care? Everyone I knew was gone, either dead or scattered into the wind. I know I won’t be seeing them again. Not Rick nor Carol… Not Daryl… Not Hershel.

Hershel. The man who had fixed me up too many times to count. The man who had become the father figure we’d all so desperately needed. Hershel, with his sparkling blue eyes that always hinting at a hidden mirth… The man who was always so ready to do what was needed. My friend.

Copper and salt bring me back to my senses as blood trickles into my mouth. Snapping my jaw closed I raise my tethered hands and touch my crimson face. It’s a deep cut and its still oozing blood so I apply pressure to try and stem the bleeding. Though, would it truly matter if I bled out? How long would it take anyway?

The hungry dead eyes of the grey haired man rake over my body and he leers at me, a sick smile lighting his wrinkled face.

“You gonna be fun to play with lil doe. I can tell.”

The knife is pressed to my jaw this time. Carefully and with precision he runs it down the side of my neck, easing the pressure when he reaches the jugular only to dig in again as it touches my collarbone. But he doesn’t stop there. Slicing through my clothes he cuts all the way down to my breast, he laughs as I’m exposed to him.

I could fight him. My knives are right there, only a few inches away. I could end him and his torture if I wanted but I don’t because all I can see is Daryl’s disinterested gaze before he turned and walked away. He saw me. He looked right at me and decided I wasn’t worth the trouble.

I’ve never been worth it.

I really am worthless.

 

  

 

 

* * *

 

Smoke. This time it’s white. The plume reaches high, stretching and curling into the atmosphere high above the trees, Must have been a decent sized fire. Pulling my hood up and my blades from their sheathes I stalk through the undergrowth. Where there’s fire there’s usually people and people are not to be trusted.

Footprints in the foliage covering the floor tell a story. They’re fresh and unhurried. Peering closer I can see at least two individual sets. One large, one about my size. Crouching down I survey my surroundings and think carefully about my options. I could follow them, find out who these people are, or I could turn back. I’m not interested in making friends but to turn in the other direction is most likely going to put me back in _their_ reach and that’s not something that can happen. Not if I want to live. With a laboured sigh I follow the tracks. I can hang back, keep my distance and avoid them. As long as I know where they are they never even have to see me. Assuming they’re still alive that is. These woods are crawling with the dead.

Creeping through the vegetation has become second nature and I’m damn good at it now. Better than I’ve ever been and that’s saying something. I guess that’s what happens when you’re being hunted. Although it’s not without complications. My body protests each time I move, my injuries not yet healed enough to allow me to live without discomfort. The crude sutures I’d attempted pull at my flesh and remind me to slow down. But I can’t. Not if I want to stay alive.

Six days. I’d endured their torture for six days before regaining my senses and fighting my way out. Four of the men didn’t survive I know that for sure. I’d wanted to hurt them the same way they’d toyed with me but time was not on my side so I’d ended them quickly. The other three had arrived back at just the wrong point, catching me off guard and putting an end to my revenge. It was those three who continue to pursue me now.

If I’m lucky they’ll either tire of this game of cat and mouse or meet with a large horde of walkers who over power them and take them down for me. I don’t relish the thought of upping my kill count but this past week I’ve changed. In this new world it’s obviously kill or be killed and I don’t intend to become a number in someone’s subconscious.

Whoever it is I’m following, I’m gaining on them. They seem to be following the train tracks and for a while I can’t understand why until I see a large sign offering sanctuary for all who survive.

 _Bullshit!_ There’s no way this place is legit. Who would share their provisions with all and sundry? No one, that’s who. It’s a trap. I don’t doubt for one moment that the second you get there, the people who run this Terminus will rob you blind and feed you to the walkers. People can’t be trusted.

Shaking my head I press onwards, carefully covering our tracks as I go. I’m nipping at their heels and I’d no doubt have seen them by now if I wasn’t so intent on making it impossible to track us. Still, it isn’t long until I catch sight of them and as I do my heart drops and my blood runs cold.

Straightening up, I grasp hold of the nearest tree for support and collapse heavily against the rough bark. As I crumple my stitches snag and flashing pain runs from my left hip upwards. Robbed of rational thought I gasp loudly, stumbling under the agony as my wounds fight to rip apart and I land with a crash on all fours. Well, there goes my cover. Instinctively I flex my hand around my blades.

The click of a gun being cocked is followed swiftly by a voice I hadn’t dared hope to hear again.

“Don’t move!”

“Carol.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper. I haven’t spoken in days and my vocal chords are paying the price. I try again, peering out from the safe confines of my hood, knowing they can’t see my face. “Carol, it’s me.”

“Red?”

 Letting out a breath I nod, pointing to the blades strapped to my back. “Recognise these?”

 “Red!”

They rush towards me and as they step closer I see Judith clinging to Tyreese. Folding my legs underneath me, I flop down onto my ass; sagging under the weight of the relief I feel knowing that not everyone perished.

“You made it out.”

“So did you.” Tyreese grins, his face lighting up with a huge smile.

I look up and I can tell by their changing expression that they can see my face.

“What--?” Carol’s brow creases and she covers her mouth with her hand.

Self-consciously I tuck my chin into my chest and allow the oversized hood I’m wearing to protect me from their aghast gazes. I know what I look like; I’ve studied the cuts over and over until they burned into my memory. From forehead to stomach to foot, slash after slash run vertically down the left hand side of my body, punctuated by haphazard, sloppy sutures. I look like Frankenstein.

“My rescuers,” I hiss, “liked my knives. They decorated me.”

“My god!” Tyreese crouches low to try and engage me, dipping his head down to look me in the eye. Tilting my face, I keep the mutilated side hidden, using my hand as a barrier. “What happened?” He asks softly.

“Part of the group who attacked the prison took me with them. They were sick in the head. I killed four of them, three more were… are hunting me down. I don’t know if they’re still following me.”

“How long?” Carol moves closer as I draw myself up and straighten out my back. “Have you been with them all this time?”

“I broke free last night.”

“What—“ She reaches out to try and touch my chin but I step away. People are not to be trusted. Even people I once knew. “What else did they do to you?”

Hardening my gaze I turn to face her, letting her see up close the full extent of damage to my face. “They carved me up. They beat me. They starved me. They broke me so I fixed me. Now, I’m aware this is probably a bit shocking for you both but we need to get moving. Like I said, I don’t know if they’re still out there looking for me.”

Carol cocks her head and purses her lips in a matriarchal manner drawing a sigh from me.

“Look, Carol, I’m sure you’ve had your own share of problems since the prison was lost.” A flash of pain dances in her eyes and she averts her gaze. “Yeah, thought so, can we just let this go and move on?”

In Tyreese’s arms, Judith begins to grumble, growing tired and restless. Carol nods and signals for Tyreese to start walking. “Fine. For now.” She arches a brow daring me to argue. I don’t. Not because she’s won but because the quickest way to get her to move is to stay silent.

We head off, Carol in the lead and me bringing up the rear, disguising our tracks, just in case.

“We’re heading to Terminus.” Tyreese tells me, looking over his shoulder.

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure it’s the sanctuary you want it to be.”

“Why?”

Carol glances back and instantly I know she’s as wary of the place as I am. 

I shrug, non-committed. “Call it a hunch.”

“We’re getting close.” Carol states, pointing to a new sign.

Striding past Tyreese and Judith, I fall into step next to Carol. “You guys carry on this way, I’ll circle around, I can get closer on my own, scout it out, make sure it’s safe.”

“Oh I doubt it’s safe.” I catch her eye and smile, happy to see that she’s still got het wits about her. “There are some tracks east of here. Ty and I will go in using them. You stay on this route, off the tracks though, best keep you hidden, just in case we need you…”

“If you get into trouble double back. I’ll find you.”

A chuckle falls from her lips and she leans in, dropping her voice somewhat. “Daryl would be proud.”

Reflexively I narrow my eyes and curl my lip. “Oh I doubt he’d give a shit.” I growl, turning on my heel and storming away.

Daryl. The man that left me behind - no worse - the man who'd walked away when I needed him. I’d had plenty of time to think about the events of that day as the assholes that took me had sliced me open and one thing kept coming back to me over and over again. Daryl hadn’t simply walked away from me; he’d taken Beth with him. It wasn't because he couldn't help me, it was because he didn't _want_ to. He’d chosen Beth over me.

I’d thought about all the times he’d lied to me, the times he’d muttered empty promises, the bullshit he’d whispered in the dark. He’d kept me at the prison under false pretences for his own amusement. He’d taken everything I’d admitted to him and used it against me.

I hated him.

Shaking my head I try to clear it of the swelling vitriol. I have to concentrate; Carol, Tyreese and Judith are depending on me. Ensuring my hood is secure, I tread lightly, carving an unseen path through the forest. Taking my time I hide from any walkers rather than putting them down. Letting them meander aimlessly by I fight the urge to plunge my blade into their skulls; the last thing I want is to leave a trail of breadcrumbs, all be it, body shaped ones. No, I have to be attentive of every possibility this close to Terminus. I’m without a single doubt that this _sanctuary_ is a death trap and I sure as hell won’t allow them to take Tyreese, Carol or Judith.

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented with feedback on the last chapter. I'm glad you're still following Red and hopefully you'll enjoy what she's got coming up.

The tree canopy shades me from the blistering sun but I still feel the heat warming me to my bones. As the forest gets hotter I’m tempted to take off my jacket. I won’t though; I don’t want to draw attention to myself just yet. I’ve tracked a man to a clearing just ahead. If my bearings are right, Terminus is only one mile north of here and watching him through the protection of the undergrowth it’s clear he’s part of the _sanctuary_. He keeps speaking into a walkie-talkie and is relaxed, not bothering to check his surroundings. He has the arrogance of someone who thinks they doesn’t need to worry. How wrong he is. 

Snippets of conversation drift through the trees and I hear him laugh. Dropping his head he shakes it and chuckles.

“Weapon with a weapon, more like strung out psycho.”

He’s setting up a large firework, some sort of rocket, and keeps checking his watch. 

“All set.” He announces, holding the small radio device to his mouth. When someone answers his features twist into a gleeful grin. “The new group? Nah, the dude with the crossbow looks too weathered, kid with the hat, he’ll be alright…”

My ears perk up at that and I carefully inch closer.

“Yeah, I want that waistcoat though, I can rock wings. Tell them not to get any blood on it when they drain him okay?”

I act fast, there’s no time to waste. Creeping up behind this stranger I do what is necessary to take him down. It’s quick and painless, and as a last show of respect I bend down and close his eyes. 

_People can’t be trusted._

_Me or him._

Collecting his gun I turn and run towards Terminus. It’s obvious Daryl made it this far and I’m betting Beth is with him. Carol, Tyreese and Judith were heading this way too, doesn’t take a giant leap to assume the rest of the survivors probably headed here also. _If_ there were any other survivors that is. Sprinting through the forest I formulate a plan of attack. I don’t know how big this place is or how well it’s guarded but I have a growing sense of urgency warning me not to linger. My people… The people I used to know might be in there and I’m not about to turn my back on them. I’m not Daryl. As the trees thin out I notice a set of footprints and its one I know well. I’d been tracking them for long enough to recognise the tread and size. Carol has been through here recently and she’s alone. Veering off to the right, I follow them until they lead me directly to her. She’s kneeling by a walker, covered in a poncho that’s drenched in blood. 

“Just me,” I call softly announcing my arrival.

She spins around with a hard glint in her eyes that dissolves as I step out into the open.

“Red.” 

“Found one of their men about a mile south. Sounds like they’ve got some of ours in there and they aren’t exactly extending them a warm welcome. We need to act fast.”

“What did you do with him?”

“He’s dead.”

“We found one too, talking about Michonne and Carl. I have a plan. I’m going to cause a scene and entice every walker in a five mile radius so you might wanna,” she gesturers to herself and I sigh in resignation. I don’t want to cover myself with that shit but it’s better than the alternative. 

“Alright, what d’ya need me to do?”

“Circle round to the north side of the compound. The walkers won’t be enough; we need to make sure they can’t come after us. Kill anyone who isn’t us.”

“Okay.” I turn away, unfazed by her command.

_Them or us._

“Wait for the signal Red and for god’s sake, be careful. There’s a cabin east of here, about a mile and a half that way,” she points a bloodied hand into the dense vegetation. “Head to it when you’re done.”

I offer her a tight smile and curt nod. “Be careful, Carol.” 

“I will if you will.” 

 

* 

 

Terminus turns out to be a huge compound with plenty of guards situated in the best vantage points. To get around the back I have to be extremely cautious and stay hidden under the camouflage of the forest to avoid being spotted. Gritting my teeth I try to ignore the bubbling frustration that comes with this slower route. My legs are itching to run but I can’t take any chances, not at this stage. As I finally round the west side of the compound, I allow myself a hissed curse. This is taking far too long. Glaring at Terminus angrily I’m about to curse again when the whole area suddenly quivers and shakes. Grasping hold of a young sapling, I steady myself and look out over the compound in time to see to see an impressive fire ball chased by a dark ball of smoke rocketing into the sky.

Carol. The woman is a genius.

Using the distraction to my advantage I dart out of the trees and down to the fence. In a matter of minutes I’ve found a weak spot on the northern line and am pushing my way through. The metal protests, trying hard to keep me out it stands its ground well until I scale it and drop to my feet on the other side. Then it’s only a matter of ripping down the plastic sheets hiding the building and tearing through the ties they’ve used to repair the many holes. I work quickly, my heart jumping as I find a repair that runs almost all the way to the top of the chain link divide. Their fix was good and would easily keep out a walker but with a few twists and cuts the whole fence flaps open, inviting the dead inside.

Pulling out my long blades, I run to the nearest building. There’s a staircase leading to the roof and I know from watching moments ago there are at least four men up there. I take a quick breath to calm my racing mind before making my way up to the rooftop. As I climb the familiar pop-pop of machine guns sound nearby and the smell of gunfire and sulphur burns my nostrils. I’m entering a warzone. The heavy weight of the gun in my pocket reminds me there is another option but shooting has never been my strongpoint and I’m sure as hell not going to risk it in a situation like this. It takes seconds to find the first man. He’s on his stomach next to a vent firing at something across the way. Dropping to my knees I swap my long blade for a throwing one and let rip. It embeds in his temple and he slumps down over the gun adding another mark to the tally of my kills. Not that that matters now.

_Kill or be killed._

Staying low and keeping away from the side of the building I crawl to my victims ankles and drag him back. Retrieving my knife I take a second to close his eyes in a final act of respect. It’s chaos and confusion city down on the ground and I can hear the calls of the people down below. Each of the inhabitants of Terminus are trying to understand what’s happening, each of them terrified, and in my experience, that makes them even more lethal. Retrieving my knife I inch around the vent and find my next target. A young guy, can’t be more than twenty, is knelt about ten feet away. He fires a round before banging on the vent and shouting, probably trying to figure out why the other guy has stopped shooting, A heartbeat later and he’s dead too. This time I don’t stop to close his eyes. The situation is becoming frantic and there’s no time for compassion. Moving on, I repeat my actions, methodically clearing the rooftop of the other two shooters, marvelling at how much I’ve changed in just one week. 

_Kill or be killed._

I’d never really wrapped my head around that idea until the old man with the black teeth and stringy grey hair had literally carved it into my flesh. He’d spent hours torturing me but at the same time desensitising me. His words were bitter and twisted and his actions sick but there was a truth in what he’d said. 

_“People can’t be trusted,”_ he’d snarled, _“the old rules are gone and alls that’s left are animals fightin’ to survive lil doe. Yous a lil doe, I’m a tiger. I kill without mercy an’ I stay alive, yous just a plaything. I’ma play with you, lil doe.”_

Gritting my teeth, I shake his voice out of my skull. I can’t allow myself to be sidetracked right now. If I want to make it out of here alive, I have to concentrate. Somewhere beyond the next building a series of screams fill the air. It’s a familiar crescendo of noise, the terror combining with the monotonous groans to create a symphony of horror, and yet I’m able to shrug it off easily. 

_”We’re all dead, lil doe, just some of us sooner than others. Ain’t nothing wrong with outlasting the others, even if yous the reason they dead.”_

Scrambling down the iron fire escape I immediately get swallowed into the throng of dead streaming in through the ruined fence. Holding my breath, I drift along in their current until I spot a door I’m able to slip through. Closing it softly behind me, I turn and survey the room. The place is cavernous, unwelcoming and disturbing to say the least. I’d thought walkers were bad but this… Parts of human remains dangle from meat hooks between plastic sheeting that is splattered with dried blood. Meat cleavers, bolt cutters and other sadistic looking instruments add to the aesthetic as they innocently line the wall on a rusty hanging wrack waiting to be used. This room is definitely going to be a source of nightmares for me, I can tell. Trying to suppress the urge to vomit I cross the floor to an open archway and emerge into a long corridor. At the other end a young woman spins around at the sound of my boots and holds her hands up in surrender.

“Please, help me,” she begs.

_You or her. Kill or be killed._

I don’t hesitate. Not anymore. Swinging my blade I dart towards her ready to puncture her heart but she’s got quick reflexes. She blocks my sword with a machete she pulls from up her sleeve before grasping a penknife from her belt and attempting to thrust it into my side. The look on her face is one of determination and perverse pleasure, and as my blade ruptures directly through her breast bone I swear her smiles grows wider still.

“You won’t survive,“ she gurgles, using her last breath to taunt me. 

“I know,” I reply to her lifeless form, shoving her with the tip of my boot to make sure she’s actually dead, “none of us will.”

A quick sweep of the rest of this torture chamber reveals nothing new so I decide to move on. Stepping over the woman’s body I unlatch the door and walk out into the sun. For a moment my heart seizes and my breath catches as I find myself surrounded by snarling walkers but they are quick to ignore me, the fresh scent of blood from the woman inside drawing their attention instead.

Yeah, I’m definitely going to have new nightmares tonight.

Dragging my feet and mimicking the actions of the decaying corpses around me I shuffle away. The guns seem to have fallen silent and all I can hear are the sounds of walkers, which can mean only one thing. It’s time to leave. With a final glance to check I’m not being followed I take in the carnage Carol has created. In less than an hour the woman has destroyed a fortress and toppled what was clearly a thriving empire of sorts. She really is unstoppable.

 

* 

 

There are too many tracks to count. A whole group have moved this way recently but I have no way of knowing if it’s them or us. Whoever it is though, is alive. There are no discernable feet dragging and the steps are all even. Losing the blood soaked jacket I’d taken from a walker and wiping the shit off my face I pull my hood up and withdraw my blades. The tracks are heading towards the cabin Carol told me about and although they are crossed with older tracks, nothing sinister seems to be afoot so I allow myself to relax a little. It doesn’t take long to catch up, after putting down a few straggling walkers, I finally catch sight of the group heading up a hill towards the cabin. There are more people than I expected and even a few I don’t recognise but the ones I do don’t seem perturbed by the new faces. They must know them.

Keeping to the trees, I watch as Rick runs to his daughter. He closes his arms around her and holds her close, embracing her and his son in an emotional, touching display of love and even my newly hardened heart can’t deny the tear that trickles down my disfigured cheek. Next to Rick, Carl and Judith, Tyreese holds Sasha in a bear hug, their matching smiles lighting their faces and speaking of their joy at finding one another. They all laugh, small breaths of delight and even from this distance I can feel their moods lifting. And as wonderful as this all is, it only serve as a reminder that not every bond is a strong one. Some are apparently easy to ignore. Some people easy to forget. Until now I’ve been purposely avoiding looking at _him_ , not wanting to suffer the heartache all over again, but if I’m going to rejoin them…

Do I have to rejoin them though?

Shrinking back into the protection of my hood, I crouch down and settle under the low branch of a nearby tree. Is there really any need to step out and announce myself? If I wanted to, I could just disappear. No one would be any the wiser, Carol would just assume that I hadn’t made it out of Terminus. No one would ever know.

_”Don’t make a shred a difference to someone like you lil doe. Yous gonna die sooner or later, sooner you realize you a dead girl walking sooner ya just won’t care anymore. “_

He was right. I can't survive this, non of us can, I'm a dead woman walking and I truly don’t care anymore. 

Skimming my eyes over the group one last time I prepare to leave. They don’t need me; they have Carol and Rick to protect them. As my gaze finds Carol, she’s smiling at _him_ , her sparkling eyes, bright and so full of life and crinkled at the corner where _he’s_ making her chuckle. Taking that image with me I step away, turning to see a group of a dozen walkers dragging themselves towards the group.

_They’ll handle them._

But just in case I keep half an eye on the dead watching them as they pass me by. They amble closer and I know that any moment someone will call out a warning. Still, I watch. The reanimated corpses speed up, their lust for blood driving them to stumble faster towards their food source and I’m almost screaming in frustration. How are they not hearing them? Why have they let their guards down, there’s a whole bunch of people for god’s sake, surely _one_ of them will notice.

They don’t.

“Motherfu—“

With a feral growl, I charge towards the road, breaking out of the tree line, slicing through the horde of dead. Bodies drop, blades carve and one by one the walkers go down until I’m the last one standing. Sweating and exposed in the middle of the road, I can feel every pair of eyes watching me. There’s nowhere to run, no disappearing over the horizon. A sigh forces it’s way past my lips and I straighten my back to peer out from under my hood.

No one moves for a second until the big guy with the red hair raises his gun.

“Don’t, she’s one of ours!” Carol moves in front him pushing his weapon back to his side. 

And then the penny drops. In a flurry of movement, Daryl drops his crossbow and runs towards me, hurtling down the incline at speed. As he draws closer panic and horror rip through me and without thinking I circle my blades and cross them in front of me, tips pointing directly at him. I can't have him anywhere near me, I can't even stand to look at him. Thankfully my aggression stops him, and he comes to a halt a good six-foot from where I’m standing. His mouth opens and a hand is clamped against it whilst his eyes search my body, tears threatening to fall down his bloodied face and it occurs to me that I’ve never seen him so… emotional. 

“Red?” It's not his usual confident tenor nor is it low and husky. His voice is tight and comes out as barely a whisper and it's like nails down a chalkboard. 

I can’t move. I can’t answer. Faced with the person I loved, the same one who walked away from me I’m suddenly numb. I can’t deal with him, I can’t bear to be around him but my body is locked in place.

“Daryl?” Carol calls softly, walking cautiously towards us.

“Red?” Daryl’s voice cracks and the first tear tracks down his face. 

I follow the droplet with my eyes until it falls from his chin onto his battered waistcoat. Who was he to shed a tear over me? He couldn't give a fuck about me a week ago, leaving me to the mercy of my captors so who was he now to feign such a sickening show of emotion? Anger boils inside me and in the blink of his eyes I morph from numb to fury. 

“Don’t you dare speak to me!”

He steps back at the force of my loathing just as Carol reaches us.

“I… I don’t—“ He looks from me to Carol and back again. “Red? What--?”

Carol tugs at his elbow and nods her head back to the cabin. “Maybe you should go.” 

“But… I don’ understand... Red?“

In a fit of rage, I tear down my hood and stalk forward, sliding my blades away. “Then let me make it perfectly clear, _Dixon_ , you come near me again and I will put you the fuck down!”

Daryl’s mouth drops open and he looks to Carol who can only shrug her shoulders in response. By the time he faces me again I’m close enough for him to see the revulsion that is my new face and as he lays eyes on it, he chokes on the words he was about to say. The dismay and horror in his eyes bring a smile to my face and for a second I revel in this small triumph. I know it’s pointless, I know that the flash of fear in his gaze is only fleeting but it gives me the strength I need to stride past him, up to the cabin.

“Red?” Carl stares openly, “what happened to you?”

Tearing my hateful glare from Daryl, my expression softens until I’m smiling. “That’s a story for another day, Carl. I think you’ve seen more than enough horror to lest you through today.” 

“Red?” This time it’s Maggie who approaches me and it suddenly occurs to me that there’s someone missing.

“Maggie... Where’s Beth?” My mouth works before my brain and I kick myself as Maggie purses her lips and looks away.

“We got plenty of time to catch up,” Rick announces, stepping in and taking the heat away from my question, “we should get goin’ find someplace safe to spend the night.”

My mind whirls and I surreptitiously glance about the group, taking full notice of who made it and who didn’t. Where’s Beth? Where are Lizzy and Micah? Where are the rest of them? And who the hell are the new people? Biting my lip I look at the mismatched group, drinking in their disheveled appearances and exhausted eyes. What ever they've been through at Terminus certainly wasn't easy.

_But they don't have scars, _my little demon whispers, reminding me yet again that I'd been left behind.__

__“You coming?” Carol appears by my side and gives me one of her looks that tells me she’s in no mood for any shit._ _

__“I don't think so.” I bite._ _

__Carol sighs. “They need you, it might not feel like it but they do. Think about Judith and carl--.”_ _

__“This feels like emotional blackmail.”_ _

__She raises her eyebrows and smiles. “Does it?”_ _

__“Fine!” The word jumps out of my mouth before I can stop it. “But I’m not promising to stay long.” I add quickly._ _

__“Okay.” And then she does something that sets my nerves on edge. She pulls me to her and holds me close, so close that I can’t breathe. “I missed you,” she says softly, letting me go._ _

__Ignoring the lump in my throat, I pull up my hood and step aside, waiting for the group to move off. Keeping my eyes fixed to the smoke in the sky I pointedly ignore Daryl and for a moment I think he's taking the hint but then he changes direction and heads directly towards me. Once again, Carol steps in between us, speaking hushed words that I can't and don't want to hear. He looks at her and then at me and shakes his head. His shoulders slump and I feel a spark of satisfaction as he slides past me, his head hanging low and his teeth working on his bottom lip. If I didn't know better I'd say he was trying not to cry. But I do know better and I've the damn scars to prove it._ _

__It doesn't take the group long to get up and moving. Taking the strategical position at the back of the group not only allows me to protect them but distances me from all the questions I'm not yet ready to answer. Although I’ve said I’ll stay, I will, but that doesn’t mean I can find some form of separation, after all, I don’t want them getting too used to having me around. I won’t fall into that trap again. I won’t give them the opportunity to throw me away a second time._ _


	32. Chapter 32

I feel their whispers. I know they’re talking about me. They’re all wondering what happened but so far only Carl has had the guts to ask. He sits now with Judith on his knee, feeding her a bottle of milk and looking at her with the fierce love of a parent not a sibling. I recognise the determination in his gaze, the unspoken promise to never let her out of his sight again and it stirs something inside of my chest. My breath catches and my heart rate spikes signalling that its time for me to hunt. I should be doing, not thinking. I’m about to slip quietly away to search for food when Carol stops me. 

“Can we talk?”

_No._

Yet despite my overwhelming reluctance I follow anyway, trailing behind her as she takes us away from the group to a secluded spot by a small outcrop of rocks.

“Did you know I wasn’t at the prison when it fell?”

My face screws up and I drop my defensive stance. “What? Where were you?”

She sighs heavily before clearing some dead leaves from the rocks and making herself comfortable

“I just want to forget. I don’t wanna talk about it, any of it, but I realise that if I expect you to tell me what happened then I’ll have to offer you the same courtesy.”

I’m intrigued, I want to know where she’s going with this out of sheer curiosity but I don’t _need_ to know. No matter what comes out of her mouth now, it won’t affect where I am or how I got here. Not unless she sent the madman to destroy the prison. And even then, I'm not ready to divulge any of my secrets.

“Don’t,” I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it either so why drag ourselves over hot coals for nothing.”

“Because Daryl—“

“Of course! It always boils down to _him_.”

She pauses and rakes her eyes over me. “What did he do, Red? What happened to make you so hostile towards him? Last I saw you two were ready to die for one another.”

“Yeah?” I snort softly. “Then you had the wool pulled over your eyes too ‘cos he sure as hell didn’t give a rats ass about me in the end.”

“Says who because let me tell you now, the way your treating him is killing him.”

I scoff loudly. “He made his bed, he’s going to have to lie in it.”

“Please, just explain why—“

“No! He knows what he did and I’m done talking about it.”

“But—“

“Watch your back with him, Carol, he’s not everything you think he is.” 

“Red!”

“No, I mean it, I’m done talking about it.“

Carol looks away thoughtfully. “And what about you, Red? It’s obviously eating you up because you aren’t the person you were. You’re clearly very unhappy…”

I bark a dry laugh and put my trembling hands on my hips. “I was mutilated by a particularly sick individual. Sorry that’s altered my state of mind, perhaps if I go catch myself a butterfly to play with I’ll be right as rain in a day or two.”

“You need—“

“Enough!” Pulling out my throwing knives I spin on my heel and walk away. Distance is what I need. Space to breathe. To get away from the group and _him_ for a few hours. Allowing the dense vegetation to swallow me, I move silently, keeping my eyes and ears strained for any sign of life. I stay closer to the camp than I like but it’s growing darker under the canopy and despite their numbers they’ve proved themselves weak. If they couldn’t hear the horde of walkers earlier what chance do they stand against any of Terminus survivors?

 

* * *

 

Most of the camp are asleep. The big red headed guy who I've yet to speak to is propped against the tree nearest me, his eyes are closed but I know he’s not asleep. His muscles are tensioned his breathing keeps speeding up and slowing down. Next to him the other guy I don’t know is snoring softly. The woman who seems attached to the red headed guy, Rosita I'm sure she's called, has her hat pulled low and her her hands wrapped tightly around her gun, but its clear she too is sound asleep. Not too far away Rick is keeping a close eye on his children and despite his fatigue, he’s not succumbing to sleep. He should though, if he’s leading the group he needs to be well rested with a calm mind. 

I stand with the intentions of doing a patrol when an odd awareness grips me. A prickling sensation at the back of my neck sends a shiver down my spine and causes my heart to pick up speed. I'm being watched. Could someone from Terminus have made it out or worse, perhaps _they_ have finally caught up with me.

Freezing in place, I cock my head and listen. The fire pops quietly and the steady breaths of the people sleeping are all I can hear but that doesn’t settle my nerves any. A cold sweat covers my brow and I know that I have little choice but to warn Rick.

I crouch down next to the newcomer. “Hey, I know you’re not asleep. Just a head’s up, I’m not so sure we’re alone.” 

He cracks open an eye and stares at me silently. Flicking my gaze to the side he picks up on my signal and nods. I mirror him before standing up and making my way to Rick. I don’t hurry. I don’t want to scare away anyone watching, no, I need them to stay where they are so that I can circle around and kill them. Doesn’t matter who they are, they’re not us.

_Them or us._

“What’s up Red?” Rick whispers, joining me by the small flames.

“I think there’s someone out there.”

“You too huh?”

My eyes snap to his but he’s staring into the fire.

“Might not be who you’re thinking.” I wince. “I was being followed when I met up with Ty and Carol.”

He turns his body towards me and steps closer. “How many?” He questions, leaning in.

“Three men.”

“The same ones who did that?” He tilts his head to my face.

“No but from the same group. They want revenge. I killed four of their guys…” A few feet away, Judith snuffles and stretches out. Reflexively Carl tightens his hold around her and at once she snuggles into the comforting embrace of her brother. “Rick, if it comes down to a fight, you take Carl and Judith and you walk away.”

He throws me a look. “That’s not what we do. We don’t leave each other behind.”

Oh the irony. I want to laugh but in all honesty the situation isn’t funny.

“Yeah? You might just be on your own thinking that.” I mutter.

“What?”

“Nothing. Forget it, I’m going to do a perimeter check.”

As I grip the handle of my blade, Daryl emerges from the trees, his eyes glued to me and his jaw set tight. 

“Already done. If there was someone there, they’re gone now.” He speaks softly, careful not to wake those closest to us.

“I’ll check anyway.” I growl.

“Don’t go alone.” Rick suddenly grabs my shoulder and it takes everything I have not to cut myself free. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on Red but you’re one of us an’ we fight for what’s ours.”

I can’t help what happens next. Turning to Daryl, I square up to him and glare into his confused eyes. “Is that right Daryl? Do you fight for what’s yours too?”

His brow furrows and he raises his shoulders in a baffled shrug. “Ya talkin’ ‘bout? Ya know I do—“

“Yeah?” I spit. “So where’s Beth?”

I don’t wait for a reply. Darting away from the men, I cross the makeshift camp and head out into the forest, stepping carefully to hide my tracks. I know exactly what had happened with Beth and why she wasn’t here. Maggie had told me that he’d got her out of an undertakers they'd been sheltering at only to find her snatched into the night by a mysterious car. She also mentioned that his guilt was eating him up… Well, at least he was capable of guilt and not, as I’d previously suspected, some sort of sociopath. Finding a large tree, I scale it without too much difficulty and perch on one of the lower branches. Making myself as small as possible, I allow the darkness to swallow me, protecting me from those who might come looking; from Terminus, from the group of men or from our camp. At this point, they were all equally unwelcome. Like an overgrown owl I watch and wait, hoping that something will come my way that I can get my talons into.

 

But nothing does. Whoever had been prowling around the camp seems to have disappeared back into the forest and by dawn even Daryl couldn’t pick up on any tracks. 

“You see anythin’?” Rick whispers as I rejoined him in the clearing.

“No, nothing.”

“Nah, Daryl neither, said he couldn’t even see any distinguishable tracks or marks but that he _felt_ someone.”

As much as it pained me I had to agree with _him_ “Hmm, there was definitely someone out there.” 

Rick sighs and rubs the back of his neck wearily. “Alright, stay sharp and keep the stragglers tight.”

“Okay.”

“Red?”

I know what’s coming. He’s about to ask about why I hate Daryl.

“I hope you don’t mind me askin’ but.. What’s going on with you? What did he do to piss you off so bad? You know, what happened to Beth, it wasn’t his fault and you throwing it in his face—“

“He’s not perfect you know.” My composure fissures. “I don’t know what game he’s playing but I assure you, that man doesn’t give a fuck about me or the words that come out of my mouth.”

Rick inches closer with an edge in his voice as he hisses in my ear, “how can you say that?”

“Because he left me behind.” Meeting his cold blue eyes I see the shock as Rick registers my words. “He saw me, looked right at me as one of the men who did this,” I point angrily to my face, “grabbed me. And what did he do about it? Nothing. He took Beth’s hand and he ran. He ran, Rick. So that’s how I can say these things. That’s why the fuck I’m so goddamn bitter and that is why I’m covered in scars and stitches so why don’t you back the fuck off and leave me the hell alone?”

Stalking into the woods I throw myself down at the base of a tree and wait. Yanking my hood up I fold my arms over my chest and glare at anyone who dares come within ten feet of me. I’m pissed. Pissed that Rick worked me up, pissed that I ran my mouth and pissed that I ever agreed to tag along in the first place.

“Let’s move. Stay together!” Rick calls, leading the group back into the trees.

Stay together. 

I growl, an angry, low rumble in the back of my throat and push to my feet promising myself that I won’t be with these people for much longer. As soon as I think they’re safe without me, I’m gone. Free of their whispers, free from their stares and free from the man whose mere existence makes my damn blood boil.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers for abuse

We’ve been walking for about an hour when we hear it. Above the sound of leaves blowing in the wind a terrified cry echoes through the forest. Eyes dart left and right as the group huddle closer, readying themselves for trouble. I hang back, ready to protect them if needs be.

“Dad, come on!” Carl pleads, tugging at Rick’s arm and I know what Rick’s thinking, hell, half of us are thinking the same but Carl is insisting we help. Maybe he’s too young to see the danger or perhaps he’s just not quite as cynical as the rest of us although god knows he should be. Either way, I can’t ignore the sense of dread warning me to keep the hell away from whoever is shouting,

_Them or us._

“Alright, come on.”

Rick takes off running towards the source of the yelling and I groan loudly as I dutifully follow. This is a bad idea; I can feel it in my bones!

When we reach the person causing all the noise I’m instantly taken aback. It’s a priest of all things and he’s stranded on a large rock as four or five walkers try to reach him. A priest!

I am definitely not a religious person and as this man wails for us to help I think about leaving him to his god and letting the walkers have him but the usual people have already started to cull the dead. Rick, Carl, Michonne and Daryl free the man in black from his pedestal and allow him to slide down to join us mere mortals.

Just looking at him has me rolling my eyes. He’s pathetic. How he’s managed to stay alive this long is beyond me. As if he’s trying to prove my point, the man doubles over and vomits all over his shoes. Unbelievable.

I make a sound at the back of my throat and turn away. It’s clear he’s no threat himself but I’m not convinced he isn’t bait.

“I’ll sweep the area, just in case.” I mutter quietly as I pass Sasha. She meets my gaze and smiles before her eyes dart to my red, ugly lacerations and she looks away quickly. I can’t really blame her, I’m sure they’re pretty gruesome about now, half healed and knotted together with whatever I could find.

Once the greenery hides me from their prying eyes, I raise my hand and trace my fingers down my cheek. The broken skin is rough and as I press down hard the sting brings tears to my eyes. Still, at least it’s not bleeding anymore. Dropping my arm I concentrate on the matter at hand. A quick glance around the area shows that the priest is alone. The only tracks I pick out are those of the walkers as they pursued him.

On my return to the group I hang back, following at a distance that keeps me mostly concealed. Every now and then Daryl turns and looks over his shoulder, his eyes seeking me out with a deep set scowl, either making sure I’m still there or that there’s no one else following us, I’m not sure which.

The priest chats easily as he takes us to his church and still I keep my distance. I’m angry that someone as weak as him is still alive where as others, the real fighters and true survivors like Hershel have been lost. Once again the unfairness of the new world hits me in the face and I’m helpless to retaliate. If he was a “doe”, why wasn’t he dead?

In the centre of a clearing, a pretty white church looms into view and the man we’re following beams proudly. Saint Sarah’s. It looks to be in good condition and I know that Rick is going to insist we stay here.

A fucking church. Letting out a dry chuckle, I can’t decide if it’s irony or cliché that we find ourselves sheltering in a church at the end of the world during the apocalypse.

As people separate and begin to examine the area I walk around the outside of the structure. It seems sound and from what I can tell it’s been shut up tight. It certainly seems like a viable place to rest up and stay safe. Checking over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching, I slip quietly into the woods. I have no desire to stay here so instead I do the only proactive thing I can think of and check for walkers and food.

 

*

 

I return hours later to find everyone inside. Food is being handed out and it looks like they found a decent stash of it from somewhere. Pushing the door closed I lean heavily against the wood, my shoulders aching and my legs burning from the effects of the last week. It’s strange how you don’t feel these things until you can. Sure, I’ve struggled under the discomfort of my wounds a little but now, faced with a relatively safe place to sleep, I’m suddenly aching in places I didn’t realised I’d strained.

“Red.” Rick walks over and hands me a glass of what looks like wine.

With a slight frown I take it, holding out the three rabbits I’d managed to catch in exchange. Wine. Didn’t think I’d be drinking this anytime soon. Rick eyes my haul appreciatively before bringing his attention back to me.

“Wasn’t sure you were coming back.” Rick smiles.

“Me either but here I am.” I take a long drink from the glass, hoping the alcohol might ease some of my pain, emotion or physical.

He gives me one of his head dips, a throwback from his days as a sheriff, and looks down at his boots. “I know you don’t feel part of our group anymore but you’re family to me so when you think it’s time for you to leave, at least come say goodbye.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek I toy with the glass in my hand. “I appreciate that, Rick, and I won’t leave you until I’m not needed anymore—“

“Well then,” Rick interrupts me with a grin, “you’re going to be around for a long time ‘cos I can’t think of a single scenario where you’re not needed.” And with that he strides off.

At the front of the church, people sit bathed in the soft light of the scattered candles. Scanning their faces I see them smiling and laughing together, sharing jokes and holding hands. Bob and Sasha, Glenn and Maggie, all of them clinging to the person they love, not in desperation, no, tonight they are holding tight because they can, not because they have to. I finish the rest of my wine and step forward. No one approaches me so I brave another step. I’m ready to turn tail and run the second anyone tries to speak to me but thankfully they leave me be. When I reach a pew a few back from where Carol sits, I slide in and lay down on my back, looking up into the gloomy rafters and finding it strange that all I can hear are the hushed conversations and happy voices.

“Your glass is empty.” I’m about to say that more wine is probably a bad idea but Carol beats me to the punch and refills my glass before I can speak. “You okay? You disappeared for quite a while.”

Sitting up I chug another huge mouthful of wine and nod. “Hunting.” I offer by way of an explanation.

“I see.”

She’s itching to say something. Her eyes are dancing across my face and she keeps subconsciously narrowing them and tensing her jaw. What ever it is I doubt I’ll want to hear it so I drain my glass and stand. “I need some air.”

“Will you be back?” She asks quickly.

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Yes. I’m not going far.” Why does it feel like I’m the teenager in this oddball family now? Between Rick and Carol I’m beginning to wonder if I’m actually needed at all or if they’re just desperate to keep the unit together out of some misguided loyalty.

 

The church is musty and damp and I only notice it as I step outside and take a lungful of fresh air. Sinking down to sit on the top step I drop my head into my hands, close my eyes and breathe.

_“Where’s ya people at now, lil doe? Dead? Gone? **I’m** yer people now. Yous gotta rely on me for everythin’. Don’t matter though, you gonna be a good little doe an’ do as yer told, right? Ya gonna learn ya lessons and listen real good.” _

It’s too quiet. The breeze has dropped and without the wind through the trees all I hear is his voice mocking me. Maybe drinking all that wine wasn’t such a good idea. Behind the door heavy boots approach and although I stagger to my feet I’m not quick enough to slip away before I’m joined. The alcohol has dulled my limbs and senses as I struggle to stand before the church door closes behind my unwanted companion.

Silence, heavy and thick, hangs over us and I can’t help but peek over my shoulder to see who I’m trying to ignore. As he comes into view my teeth grind and I stomp clumsily around the side of the building. There is no way I’m prepared to deal with _him_ right now, or ever for that matter.

“Hey. Hey! Wait up, I got somethin’ I wanna say.” Daryl strides to my side, reaching around me to grab the top of my arms and stop me from running. His touch seers my skin, burning through to the white-hot fury and setting fire to my temper. Before he can stop me I have two blades crisscrossed at his throat but my speed is no match for his strength. Snatching my hands away he backs me up the few steps it takes for him to pin my arms against the wooden church high above my head.

“I didn’t see ya!” He cries. “I didn’t know ya was there.”

We both know what he’s talking about and we both know its bullshit.

“Don’t lie to me, _Dixon_! You made your choice that day, just ‘cos it didn’t work out for you doesn’t mean you get to change the god damn story.”

He bows his head, touching his forehead to mine and squeezing my wrists tightly.

“Thought I saw ya, for just a second as I turned away but when I looked back…” His head shakes and a tear splashes from his eye to my cheek enraging me even further.

“You fucking liar! You looked right at me and then you left. I don’t care what you say, I know what happened, I saw it with my own eyes. You chose Beth so fucking deal with it and get the fuck out of my face! Don’t think I won’t kill you!”

“If I’d known.” His voice cracks and he pushes up against me, taking both my wrists in one hand and cupping the uninjured side of my face with his other.

Turning away, I raise my knee but he blocks me before I can land it.

“I hate you, _Dixon_. You lied to me and abused me. I wouldn’t even have been there if it weren’t for your emotional blackmail. Everything that happened, every last thing is your fault and the day you’re dead and buried can’t come soon enough.”

My words are more affective than my actions. He releases me and steps back, his shoulders slumping and hands hanging limp by his sides as he backs away, winded.

“I looked for ya. Ya weren’t there. Ya weren’t there!”

“Oh but I was,” I snarl, “and I watched you leave me to my new _friends.”_

His gaze snaps to mine, his watery eyes shining through the gloom.

“”M sorry, Ede—“

“Do not say my name,” I roar. “Never say it again!”

I’m about to storm away into the solitude of the forest when he asks softly, “What they do? What happened to ya?”

A sneer plays on my lips and I sense an opportunity. If he’s really regretting leaving me, if he honestly wished he’d done things differently, then what I’m about to say will crush him. I have a chance of vengeance. In the dim glow of the moon I unzip my top and take it off, tossing it to the side carelessly.

“His name was Earl.” Stiffly I removed my dirty tank top, sucking in a hiss as my stitches pull and my wounds stretch. “He called me his ’little doe’.” Daryl’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of my mutilated torso. “He liked to play with knives, _my_ knives. He liked to see how far he could push me too, loved to make me scream but, here’s the funny part,” I unbutton my pants and pull them down to my knees where the carvings stop, “when I screamed out I got punished.” Slowly I spin around, gathering my hair over my shoulder once I’m facing the church in order for him to see everything clearly.

“Jesus.” His voice is strangled and I’m not surprised. I know what my back looks like, I know the words he carved into me are still red and angry and easily legible even in the subdued light.

Letting go of my hair I face him once more, hooking my hand into my panties and pulling them down a few inches, to show him my lower abdomen. Daryl’s eyes track down to my hands before he looks away, horrified by what he’s seeing.

“Earl struggled with who he was.” Reaching down I cautiously pull up my pants, careful to avoid my injuries. “You’ll notice that apart from here,” I point to my lower belly as I’m doing up my trouser buttons, “he kept his doodling to one side… There’s a reason for that.” I reach for my top, cursing as the discomfort from stretching becomes too much. “Earl liked boys but being the man he was, he couldn’t accept that. He was a tough as hell redneck, he wasn’t supposed to be gay, according to him, it was wrong, sick. So he took it out on me. He cut me for pleasure except for when he wanted to punish himself, and then he would strip me naked and gouge out my flesh because I was a woman and he didn’t like women. I think given time, he'd have cut everything out that made me a woman...”

Daryl falls to his knees tears coating his crumpled face and the sight of him, broken and wrecked eases my soul. This is retribution.

_“_ I could always tell what mood he was in depending on which side he stood on. He kept all his playfulness on my left so that if he was feeling particularly righteous he could stand on my right and pretend he was a moral, upstanding citizen. But when he was on my left… Well… He liked to teach. Thought himself some sort of fountain of knowledge. To be fair to him, some of his words had wisdom.” I tilt my head as I recall his distinctive voice. “He taught me that murder and killing aren’t the same anymore. That its them or us, don’t hesitate, after all we’re all on borrowed time, we’re all going to die sooner than later so why worry if you’re the cause of death?” Wriggling into my hoodie, I let out a soft laugh. “’ _ _ _Lil Doe, I’ma share a secret with you’_ ,__ he’d said,” I imitate Earl’s rasping tenor. “’ _ _ _I’ma tiger an yous a doe. Yous ain’t long fer living so don’t hold back. If yous got scores to settle, yous settles ‘em ‘cos very soon, yous gonna be dust in the wind.’___ ”. 

Dust in the wind. That sounded as appealing back then as it does now.

“So there you go. __That’s__ what happened. That’s what __they_ _ did, but just so you know, it might have been done by Earl’s hand, but every last kiss of that blade was as much you as it was him. His torture was malicious but at least he was honest. You, you’re the lowest of the low and what is engraved into my back is engraved into my soul now. Not because of him, but because of you. People can’t be trusted.” I nod to myself. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

I meet his gaze and stare unflinching as sorrow and regret pour out of him. He looks ready to roll over and die and I realise I've done it, I've exorcised my demons. Stepping past him I walk slowly into the woods, leaving the clearing feeling lighter than I have all week. Glancing back, I see Daryl, still on his knees but now his head is bowed to his chest and his shoulders tremble as a series of powerful sobs wrack his entire body. If I'd wanted to break him I'd succeeded so where then was the satisfaction? Instead of being joyful, I was growing colder by the second.

Casting my eyes into the forest, I leave quietly, lost in thought, wondering why I suddenly felt so numb. Retribution was supposed to make everything better but it hadn't so where had I gone wrong?


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Triggers for abuse, depression and suicide

Something is wrong with me. I should be rejoicing and revelling in my victory not slumped in the dirt, staring into space. I’d done what I’ve been wanting to since the day Daryl ran off and left me; I’ve brought him to his knees, literally, so why do I feel so… empty? I’d thought payback would bring with it closure. How wrong I was. Now I just feel… dead.

The frigid air seeps through my clothing and clings to my bones, freezing me in place. In the near distance the church houses a group of people who are enjoying a moment of happiness. Within it’s walls they are laughing and smiling and its a happiness I _should_ be sharing but the further I’d walked the faster my satisfaction had drained.

And now I have nothing. No Satisfaction. No anger. Where once they’d bubbled and swelled was now an empty void.

I don’t know how long I’ve been gone, it could be minutes, it could be hours, but on my return I find Daryl exactly where I’d left him, collapsed on the floor. From my spot by the trees I watch him, noting how the burning hatred I’d harboured only a few hours ago had sizzled out. Looking at him now I feel nothing except apathy at it’s finest. Like looking into a stranger’s window, I’m watching my life play out. I no longer feel any connection. I’m no longer tethered to this place or these people. I am comfortably numb.

“I’m leaving now.” I speak quietly, there’s no need to shout, the night is still and my words carry. “Please tell Carol and Rick goodbye.”

There’s no reason to stay. The people inside the church are more than capable of protecting themselves without me. I see that now. I’m not important. I’m a nobody. Knives, guns, rocks, they all surmount to the same thing. They are all capable of finishing the job. 

Daryl’s head tilts up slightly. “Ya right. ‘S all my fault.” His voice heavy with pain. “I saw ya everyday. In ma head. Never stopped seein’ ya. Never will. But I shoulda seen ya then, when it mattered.”

He’s rambling and I’m not listening. Nothing will alter what happened. Words are redundant. Sliding back into the shadows I turn my back on the man I’d once loved and the people I’d lived with. We’d run our course; it was time to move on.

Move on to what though? That was the question. What comes next?

“Please…” 

I jump, startled by Daryl’s gruff tone as he snuck up behind me. Letting out a sigh I reluctantly spin around and face him.

“If I’da known ya was there I’da come got ya. Ain’t never gonna forgive maself for what I did. Ain’t never—“

“It’s done. It can’t be changed. There’s little point dwelling on it. Like Earl said, we’re not long for this life now, there’s no point in regret.” My lip trembles and a lump forms in my throat but I don’t know why. 

“How can ya stand t’ say his name like that? Like he ain’t nothin’ but a guy you knew?”

I meet his gaze and he flinches. I don’t know why, it’s not like I’m mad at him anymore.

“Because that’s exactly what he is.” There’s a definitely tremble in my voice that confuses me.

“’M so sorry.” Daryl steps closer. 

I shrug. “If wishes were horses, beggars could ride.” Tears stream from my eyes and suddenly a wave of emotion crashes over me. Sinking to the floor, I wrap my arms around my torso and gasp for air. Anger, helplessness, terror, horror, disgust and shame. It all ravages me until I’m a hyperventilating mess shivering violently.

My heart thrashes against my ribcage and my vision wavers in a physical manifestation of the emotions shredding me at the seams but worst still is knowing there’s no escape. The scars I carry, mental and physical, will never heal. I am irrevocably ruined. 

I have never given up. When I lost my family, when I lived alone in the woods, when Earl tortured me, there was always something keeping me going, forcing me on, pushing me through… But not anymore. I have reached my breaking point and I am done.

It’s time to become dust in the wind.

“Eden, please, just breathe, ya gotta try an’ calm down.” Daryl has my face in his hands and as I come out of my reverie I’m met by his glassy eyes.

“Let me be.” I choke out, breathlessly. 

“No. Ain’t never lettin’ ya go. Not again.”

His words drift somewhere above me, just out of reach. It doesn’t matter what he says because I know what comes next. I know where I’m heading. Daryl stoops to gather me in his arms, lifting me effortlessly and pulling me tightly against his chest.

“Don’t.” My voice is flat and lifeless and it pulls him to his senses. 

He stops and gently places me on my feet. 

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired. Just… let me be.” I whisper hoping that for once Daryl will listen.

“Ya need sleep. C’mon, let me take care of ya, let me make it up to ya.” 

“If you want to make it up to me, let me go.” I haven’t the energy to argue.

A movement behind Daryl’s shoulder catches my eye drawing my attention. My eyes grow wide and I shake my head, there’s no way what I’m seeing is real. 

A few feet away, Earl staggers towards me, a grin on his face and my knife in his hand. _“Ya thought yous were a match for me, lil doe?”_

“I _killed_ you!” I gasp.

As if suddenly remembering, Earl stops walking and cocks his head. “So you did,” he chuckles, holding out his arms and watching as his clothes shred and become bloody. 

A sob catches in my throat as crimson liquid drips from his limbs. This isn’t real, it can’t be, I’d made sure he was dead and wouldn’t be coming back. I’d all but cut his damn head off.

“Eden, what’s wrong?” Daryl grabs me, whipping his head back and forth trying to figure out what was terrifying me.

“He’s here.” I hiss. 

_“Jus’ fer yous, little doe. I’ve come back fer yous. I’ma tiger remember. Now I’ma eat ya.”_

He lunges towards me, blood pouring from the wounds I’d inflicted, highlighting the lettering I’d carved into his face. Throwing my hands up in defence, Daryl catches my wrists and pulls me flush against his broad chest. He holds me tightly, shushing me and rocking us slightly back and forth.

“Ain’t no one here. Can’t no one hurt ya now.” 

_“This one a yer people? This Daryl?”_ I hear Earl’s voice close to my ear and recoil in fear.

“’S alright, Eden, I got ya.” Daryl insists.

_”Yous can stop all this right now, lil doe. The pain… The memories… Me…”_ ”

“Leave me alone!” I cry.

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl growls. 

This is all too much. Pulling away from Daryl, I lean back against the bark of the nearest tree. 

_”Jus’ take one a them there knives. Nice an’ sharp they are. Like slicing’ through hot butter, ya can make it all stop. Jus’ take a knife and quick as a flash it’ll all be over. Yous can be dust on the wind, nice an peaceful like.”_

Sliding my hand to my waist my fingers curl around the handle of one of my blades. The texture, the weight, the curve of the handle, all so familiar and comforting.

_“It’s quiet on the other side. Yous don’t need to fight no more. Won’t even hurt non.”_

Dust on the wind.

On autopilot, I lift the tip of the blade, bringing it level to my heart.

_”Make it stop, lil doe.”_

Oh how I want it all to just stop. I just don’t know if this is the way. 

_”Ain’t no shame in bowing out my sweet lil doe. Yous too special for this world now.”_ Earl steps forward, his face a mask of compassion. _“Let me help yous, let me take away ya pain.”_

His hand covers mine, and the blade inches closer until the metal brushes my hoodie.

“The fuck ya doin’ Eden?” Daryl snatches my wrist and yanks it away, the force of his action spinning me so that once again I’m facing him. “Ya lost ya damn mind, woman? The fuck ya gotta try an do that for? That ain’t the way, that ain’t ever gonna be your way!” He’s yelling, his voice hoarse and tight.

_”Little doe,”_ Earl’s eyes fill with tears, _”ya stuck here now. Ain’t no escape. Can’t help yous no more.”_ With a final shrug, he backs away, fading into the gloomy woods as fast as he appeared.

“Eden! Look at me!” Daryl shakes me hard and I tear my gaze from where Earl disappeared back to the hunter to find him crying. Wordlessly he pulls each of my knives from their sheathes and distributes them carefully around his body. Once he’s sure they’re all secure, he picks me up and strides quickly back to the church. He’s on edge, he’s lost, he hasn’t a clue what to do with me and I find a shred of comfort in this. 

“He was just trying to help.” I mumble. “I think, in some way that’s all he ever tried to do.”

“Who? What ya talkin’ ‘bout?” 

“Earl. Just now. He just wanted to help.”

Daryl falters in his stride and halts. “What?”

“I think…” What? What do I think? That Earl came back to guide me? I know how ridiculous that sounds. The dead are walking but there’s no such thing as ghosts.

“C’mon. Let’s get ya back. Ya need to rest.”

Daryl picks up his pace and in moments we’re back at the church. Inside, the group have settled and are sleeping. Setting me down in a corner, Daryl removes all his weapons and places them out of arms reach before curling his body around mine. He’s trapping me between himself and the wall, my back to his chest.

“Try an’ get some sleep,” he begs, nuzzling as close to me as he can, his arms engulfing me so I can’t move an inch. “I got ya now, Eden. Ain’t never gonna leave ya again.”

I stare at wall, baffled by how we got here. As Daryl clings to me like his life depends on it I couldn’t feel any more detached if I tried. My body might be pinned to his but my soul has died and in the darkness of this church, I can see no way of reviving it. Why the hell would I even want to anyway when all that’s left in this life is death, destruction and despair?

_It’s quiet on the other side. Yous don’t need to fight no more. Won’t even hurt non._ I hear Earl’s words and close my eyes. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride, isn’t that what I’d told Daryl? Well, maybe it was time for beggars to ride.


	35. Chapter 35

In the silence of the church I wriggle carefully out of Daryl's grasp. He stirs and a frown plays across his face but it's not long before he resumes the gentle breathing that comes with deep sleep. I can't say I'm surprised. He's wrung out, his body and mind need time to repair and rest. It's still dark and from what I can tell, everyone's sleeping. Everyone but me. My gaze lazily surveys my surroundings before coming back to rest on Daryl's face. He looks much younger when he sleeps, the cynicism and pain wiped from his features gives him back an indisputable air of youthfulness. Staring I wait for some form of emotion to settle but nothing comes.

Nothing.

Running a hand through my messy hair I wince when my stitches pull, well at least I can actually still feel _something_. Pain. Sighing I push to stand, welcoming the angry bite of my wounds as I move. I don't know what I'm doing and nor do I care. Not even in the smallest, darkest corner of my soul can I find a shred of emotion. No fear or anger, no satisfaction or hope. I'm so far removed from the world around me that not a single thing bothers me anymore, nothing can cut through this numbing apathy. My legs move as I contemplate my new impassiveness and on autopilot I exit the church. I don't know where I'm going and I truly don't care. What does any of it matter anymore?

Before I know it I find myself wandering through the woods in nothing but my tattered top and jeans, my knives and coat still on the floor in Saint Sarah's, forgotten, ignored. If the temperature is cold, I don't notice it. If the undergrowth bites at my bare arms, I don't feel it. 

Oblivion. That's where I am. Lost to an apathetic stupefaction.

The trees surrounding me are as still as my emotions. Gentle sounds of animals and insects reclaiming the land for their own carry through the still night. Unseeing and unaware I continue my journey to nowhere, oblivious to where I'm going or what the hell I'm doing.

In the near distance a growl nips at the edge of my attention, like an annoying whine of a mosquito it refuses to let me be until I'm forced to acknowledge it. Narrowing my eyes I note with disinterest that I'm stood in the centre of an asphalt road.

Turning my back to the ever present noise I tilt my face upwards and study the large moon, the craters and shadows on its face as familiar to me as my own reflection. How many nights had it been my only companion? How many times had it lit my path?

Behind me the noise is growing louder and a small part of my mind registers that I should be concerned but I'm not. Whatever happens now, happens. I'm done.

I'm. Done.

Without conscious thought I lower myself to sit on the hard floor. Contemplating my life I realise that I had given _everything_ I had to Daryl. He'd received my love, my time, my memories and the only thing keeping me alive since the prison fell, my anger. I'd given every last shred of my soul away so there was no need for me to be here, nothing left and so as the noise gets louder I wait, hoping that my demise is as quick as it can be.

_It's quiet on the other side, lil' doe._ And I believe him. Despite his many flaws, Earl had never lied to me.

Letting out a sigh I stare at the road and it slowly becomes apparent that something is wrong. The moon is in front of me so why then am I looking down on my shadow? Scowling I turn to peer over my shoulder, my brows pulling down as I'm met with a confusing sight. A car is speeding down the highway towards me, it's powerful headlights throwing an uncomfortably harsh light into my eyes. Blinking against the unforgiving white headlights, I stand and turn to face the vehicle just in time and as it plows into me I see Earl smiling his black-toothed smile, welcoming me to the other side with open arms.

 

 

 

* * *

 

"Ya gotta wake up now Red, it's time. They patched ya back up an' ya gonna be fine but it's time to wake up."

Prying open my eyes I see Beth hovering over me, her smile as bright as the fluorescent light above us. Confusion clouds my groggy thoughts and the only single coherent thing I can focus on is the light. It buzzes quietly, the tube gently flickering in the nauseating way that only fluorescent lights can.

"Red, please!"

Flicking my gaze to the side I drink in my surroundings and if I didn't know better I'd say I'm in hospital but how can that be?

"Red? D'ya know who I am?"

The concern radiating from glassy blue eyes can only belong to one person but I'm having difficulty marrying the girl to my current situation. "Beth?" 

As I mutter her name her shoulders sag and she glances over her shoulder. "It's alright, Red, you're safe... kinda." She mutters the last word quietly but I still pick up on it. What the hell is happening? With a lot of effort I managed to persuade my body to sit, trying my best to ignore the searing pain that rips through me with every movement.

"Where are we?" I can hardly hold my weight up and the room spins slightly. "What happened?" But before she can answer we're joined by a stern faced police woman. She steps into the room and after a moment where she openly stares at the wounds Earl gave me, she nods.

"Where'd you get those?"

I swallow past the lump in my throat and close my eyes. "What does it matter?"

She pauses, looking me over with her deep brown eyes, searching for something. "Alright, why were you in the middle of the road? My men said you had plenty of time to see and hear their vehicle approaching. Why didn't you move?"

Her words jog my memory and for a second I'm back on the highway looking up at the moon. The memory soon fades though and I'm back in the sterile room remembering why I didn't move, why I didn't care.

"I knew it. I told you not to waste resources on this one but you wouldn't listen." The strangers voice is full of hostility as she rounds on Beth.

"No, she wouldn't, I..." Beth's eyes plead with me, begging for an answer but I don't have it in me to give her one. The shock of waking up in this place and seeing a friendly face is wearing off and I'm returning to a comfortable level of numb.

"I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do now. You insisted we save her so this is on you, Beth. I tried to tell you but you refused to listen--"

I zone out as we're joined by yet another familiar figure. His bloodied form saunters into the room and sits on the bottom of my bed and again he smiles at me, flashing his black teeth at me and rolling his eyes. _Guess ya didn't quite manage to make it to me after all. Shame, I was lookin' forward to seeing' ya again lil' doe._

Outside the room a crash catches my attention along with a man's voice. "Dawn, what do you want to do with this one?" A head pokes around the door before a man enters the room completely. He's tall, with a beard and glasses wearing a white lab coat. Seeing me he smiles but his attention is quickly returned to whatever is happening in the hallway.

The police woman sighs, throwing a glare at me before addressing Beth. "Don't go anywhere, wait right here, we're not done."

Beth dips her head and shifts her weight to her other foot uncomfortably. "Yes, Dawn."

I'm offered once last glare and then the door is closed firmly, trapping me in the stark, clinical room with Beth.

"It ain't true what she thinks, is it? Ya didn't do this on purpose." My mouth opens but I can't reply. Did I do it purposely? I certainly didn't do anything to avoid it but is that the same?

Hurt flashes across Beth's face. "What happened to you?"

My thoughts scramble together and I don't have the energy to even begin telling my story. "Everything." 

"I don't understand, please, Red, ya gotta snap out of this." 

Oh, if only it were that easy. If only it was something I had control over. "I can't. She's right, you should have--" 

"No! I don't know what happened to you but this ain't the real you, the Red I know is strong. She's a fighter. She wouldn't give up."

"I'm not that woman anymore, Beth. She's gone."

"No." Beth snatches my hand in hers and I notice it's encased in a white cast. "You're a fighter, ya just need to rest. Once ya feeling' brighter you'll be back to yourself. Ya gotta. If we're gonna escape, you need to find the Red I knew at the prison."

_Escape?_ My eyes cloud and the edges of my vision darken. "What's going on Beth?"

"This place ain't good. They only help the people they can get something from. They won't let me leave. Dawn, she makes you stay until you've paid off your debt, and the other officers are--"

The door opens and Beth changes her tone quickly. "You'll be right as rain in no time, it's all gonna be fine, ya just need a little more rest. Oh hello Dr. Edwards, I didn't see you there."

"Beth." Dr Edwards, the man in the white lab coat from the hallway smiles at me. "Hi, glad to see you're back with us."

I'm too confused to reply. My eyelids are dropping and it's becoming increasingly difficult to remain conscious.

"Beth, I think she needs to rest. Why don't we come back in a coupe of hours?"

Someone squeezes my hand but I'm too tired to reciprocate, instead I slump back against the headboard and allow sleep to claim me once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've had such a long hiatus. Hopefully updates should come much more regularly now :)


	36. Chapter 36

“Complex post traumatic stress disorder. Hardly surprising given what you’ve been through.” 

The white walls reflect the grey light, making the small room feel even more depressing. I’m seated across from the doctor on a chair designed to be comfortable but over the years of use it’s become lumpy and I can’t stop fidgeting. Between us there’s a small coffee table holding a glass of water which had been offered to me as I sat. It remains untouched. 

Dr Edwards puts his hand to his mouth in contemplation and my thoughts drift back to all the events I haven’t yet told him about. My family. My baby. The poor father and his children. Daryl. So many miserable and sickening memories is there any wonder I’m suffering with a mental disorder? Maybe if he knew the full extent he’d agree that enough was enough. Maybe he’d let me go.

“This prolonged sense of apathy, of pulling away from people, is a common symptom of Complex PTSD. Don’t worry though, with time and treatment there’s no reason to suggest you can’t get better. I’ve spoken with Dawn and recommended a course of antidepressants alongside a work routine, and of course regular sessions with me.” He smiles and I stare back blankly. “Non of this is your fault, Red. The people who did these things to you did so because they are, were, mentally unstable. Nothing you did or said warranted their abuse. It was their choice to hurt you. Theirs alone.” He’s looking so intently at me it’s making my stomach tighten. Standing I move to the window and look over the charred vista, feeling as ravaged and scarred as the city below me.

“You’re close to Beth, yes?”

Close is not a word I would use to describe my relationship with anyone and I suspect he knows this already. “I know her.” 

“I think it would be beneficial for you two to work together. I’ve suggested this to Dawn and she agreed to let Beth show you the ropes. You’re stitches are still quite fresh though so no heavy manual work just yet. Perhaps you both could take over Noah’s laundry duties for a while?” 

My stitches. He'd cut out my feeble attempt at a repair and had neatly sewn me back together. And now here he is, trying to repair my tattered mind. I know he’s expecting an answer only I don’t have one so I remain stoic. I don’t particularly want to be here. That said there’s no where else I’d rather be, nowhere else I _need_ to be so I guess I might as well stay. At least here it’s warm and dry.

“Let me go and speak to Beth. The sooner you start getting into a routine the better. Here,” he pulls a container from his pocket and lays out two small pills next to a glass of water on the coffee table. “Take these, I won’t be long.”

As he closes the door I shuffle to the table and pick up the tablets. There’s no reason to take them however, no reason not to. I already know that nothing can help me but he seems to want to try so I toss them back, swallowing them down without the need for water. With any luck they’ll blur the edges of reality and I’ll have some escape from this hell of a life. Sadly, I already know they won't harm me, whilst Dawn was clearly psychotic, Dr Edwards was just trying to survive. I’d worked out straight away that he posed no threat. At least not to me. He was weak and I’d hasten to bet that he’d only survived this long because he was tucked away in this hospital under Dawn’s watchful eye.

The door swings open and Beth walks in wearing a guarded smile. “Red?” She waits a moment before closing the door and hurries over, wrapping her small arms around me and pulling us into an awkward hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright!”

I huff a humourless laugh at her words that thankfully she doesn’t seem to notice as she sets me free.

“Does Daryl know you’re alive? Have you seen anyone else? What happened to you?” She fires question after question and it occurs to me that she doesn’t know about the others. 

“Maggie’s alive. She’s with Glenn, Rick, Michonne, Carl, Judith and a bunch of others at a church. Daryl’s there too.”

Her mouth opens into a wide toothy smile and once again she hugs me tight only this time there are no words. 

“I don’t know exactly where they are, but they’re out there. It wouldn’t take you too long to find them. They’re at St. Sarah’s church, wherever the hell that is.”

Beth squeezes me tighter before releasing her hold and checking over her shoulder. “They don’t let you go, once you’re here there’s no escape. They reckon you gotta pay off your debts before you can go, it never happens though. Food, medical care, everything adds to your debt, every little thing but we’ve got a plan, me an’ Noah. As soon as you’re well enough we’re gonna break out.”

It takes me a moment to digest what she’s saying. “They’re keeping you here against your will?”

“They found me after Daryl told me to run. I don’t remember what happened, I blacked out and woke up here. They fixed me up an’ made me work to pay back what I owe them. There’s one guy, Gorman,” she shudders and her blue eyes get even larger, “don’t let him near you, he’s—”

“Okay,” Dr Edwards crashes through the door beaming, “you’re all set, oh Beth, you’re already here, well that saves me a job. You’re taking over in the laundry room with Red, until her stitches are better she’s on light duty, shadowing you. Show her the ropes okay?”

Beth’s hand finds mine and she grips it tightly. “Sure. C’mon, Red, I’ll show you what you need to do.” With a bright smile, she drags me from the room and down the length of the hallway, shoving me into a darkened closet at the end of the corridor.

“Beth—“

“Dr Edwards cut out your old stitches and replaced them. Some of your wounds weren’t closing right with your old sutures. We need to wait a few days, let them settle down. Are ya hurtin’ anywhere else?” She speaks in a hurried and hushed tone and I can’t understand why.

“Beth, I’m confused. There are no locks, no guards, why are you still here?”

“The ground floor isn’t secure. They… They drop the ones who don’t make it down an elevator shaft and the walkers…” She pulls a face.

“But there has to be a safe route in and out, otherwise how did we get in?”

“Dawn has men stationed at the main exit.”

“So? Kill them.” The solution seems obvious to me.

“Red! These people aren’t good, they shoot first and ask questions later. They—“

“What? I don’t see the issue.” With a sigh I run my hand through my hair. “Look around Beth, you’re in a hospital. Can’t you get your hands on some meds and drug them? Or a pair of scissors and stab them? Or a scalpel? We’ve done more with less resources… I don’t understand, just kill them and have done with it.”

Two gleaming eyes shine with tears. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She looks at me with confusion. “I figured you of all people would understand why.”

“I warned you Beth, I’m not the person you knew. When Daryl abandoned me I found myself a new teacher and he taught me some pretty tough lessons.”

“Wait, what? Daryl never _abandoned_ you.” 

“Maybe not intentionally,” I concede, noting how I really didn’t care less either way now, “doesn’t matter, you missed my point. The rules you knew don’t apply anymore. You take what you want because there sure as hell isn’t anyone around who’ll give it to you. It’s them or you, Beth, and you’re worth a hundred of them, so what’s stopping you?”

Beth steps towards me and searches my face. “What happened to you, Red?”

“This.” I point to my face. “This.” I lift my scrub top and show her my torso, turning so she can see the engravings on my back. “I got a lesson in how the new world works.”

I can see the shock in her eyes and it takes her a second to disguise it. “The people who did that to you were wrong. Like the man who killed my daddy. We can’t let them win, we gotta keep fightin' ‘cos we all got a job to do.”

“I don’t. Not anymore. Not since the prison fell and Earl carved his wisdom into my flesh. I was wrong to come to the prison. Wrong to stay, and wrong to fight. I should have given up years ago.”

“You saved people, Red. The runs you did, the walkers you put down, it all helped keep the community safe and alive.”

“Safe? Is that how you felt when the tank rolled through the fence?”

Her face contorts and again she’s quick to regain control. Biting her lip she inhales a deep breath and begins to pile the clean and pressed scrubs into the relevant places. Minutes pass, Beth continuing the work and me watching until finally she’s had enough of the silence.

“And what about Daryl? You walking away from him as well?”

I laugh a bitter, choking laugh and close my eyes as I drop softly to the floor and rest my head against the cool wall. “Fine choice of words, Beth, very apt.”

She narrows her pretty eyes. “Why? What happened?”

“Does it matter?”

“I think so, yeah. You didn’t see him, you weren’t there. He… He was so angry, so full of guilt and despair. He was lost without you, Red.” She bends her knees and take my hands, being extra careful with her cast.

“And yet he was the one who left me behind.” I whisper, meeting her gaze. “He saw me, just as they grabbed me, he saw me and then he left with you.”

Her face screws up into a frown. “You’re wrong. If he’d seen you—“

“He claims he didn’t, said he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he’s telling the truth, maybe he’s not, all I know for sure is that he left and I got taken.”

“An’ you think it’s Daryl’s fault ya got taken?”

I laugh again. “It’s no one’s fault Beth. The world went to shit, we were stupid to think that anything good had survived.”

“But it did. _We_ survived.” She casts a nervous glance at the door before settling down next to me and resting her head on my shoulder. “Bad things happen, don’t mean you gotta let it define you.”

“Oh, Beth.” She’s so out of her depth and yet here she is still trying her best to swim, it’s admirable and I find myself wanting to encourage her. “Hold on to this feeling of determination and don't ever let it go.”

“We’re gonna get through this.” It’s a statement, and one she so obviously believes wholeheartedly, only I know how wrong she is. Despite what she’s seen, she’s still untainted, still blissfully naive of the true horror that lurks beneath. “I mean it Red, together, we’re gonna get back to them, and you… You’re gonna feel better soon.”

Part of me wants to correct her, tell her that I don’t feel bad, I just don’t feel _anything_ but I hold my tongue. Who am I to take away her hope? She’s a good kid and she deserves to hold on to her fire for as long as she can, god knows the world is going to steal it from her soon. So instead of speaking I clasp her good hand tighter and exhale. It’s all I can manage but she seems happy with it.

“C’mon, I’ll show you what to do. Don’t wanna get caught sitting here, Dawn won’t tolerate anyone who don’t pull their weight.”

 

* * *

Days pass following the same routine and I lapse into a comfortable pattern of therapy session with Dr Edwards and chores alongside Beth and Noah. I don’t know how many days have gone by since I got here, in the beginning they all blurred into one long nonsensical muddle but it’s different now though. I’m different.

I’ve been put in charge of my own meds. Dr Edwards insisted, saying that I needed to feel trusted in order to build trust. Apparently that’s one of my issues. Trust. Well no shit, I mean is there really any wonder? Except… Despite my best efforts to remain impassive, I’m finding myself getting closer to Beth. When I smile at her now it’s not forced or fake. In a dull, gloomy world she’s a tiny beacon of light and I genuinely like spending time with her. If only she wasn’t leaving.

“You have to come with us.” She pleads for the millionth time and for the millionth time I tell her no. “You can’t stay, you’ve seen what they’re capable of, pretty soon this is gonna fall apart. You can’t be here when that happens.”

“I won’t. I’m just not ready to leave yet. I’m not in the right frame of mind, I’m not in the right place.”

“Please, Red!”

“I’m sorry Beth, and I mean that, which in itself is huge progress for me. I wish I could but if I go back out there, if I push too hard before I’m ready then I’m going to end up doing something stupid.”

Crossing to the door, Beth checks the hallway and nods once to whoever is outside. 

“Look,” I sigh a heavy and loaded breath, “tell me what you need and I’ll help. I’ll do what ever I can to get you out, just—“

“You won’t come with us,” she finishes.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

Anger flares inside my chest and I unconsciously ball my fists. “I don’t have time for this, I’m late for Dr Edwards.” I make to move past her, only stopping as she reaches for my hand and squeezes it. Is this her goodbye? Fear kicks my heart up a gear and I turn to face my friend. Could this be the last time I see her? “I’m going to my session now.” I speak slowly. “Take care of yourself whilst I’m gone. Be vigilant, stay safe and don’t ever, _ever_ lose your spark.” 

“Red—“

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

I can’t listen to her beg me to go with her again so I dart out of the door. Outside Noah is sweeping the floor and he looks up at me with expectation. A slight shake of my head answers his question before I head on my way. She'd become my anchor, tethering me to this world. When I was at my worst, she'd spent hours talking to and for me. She'd told me about her time with Daryl, about how he'd just about given up himself until they'd burned down a cabin. She'd whispered in the dark, sharing the ugly secrets of the hospital, warning me, educating me. Yes I would miss her terribly and even I could see that this was progress. Despite the thoughts in the back of my mind telling me it was good she was going because people were bad and shouldn't be trusted and because I couldn't risk letting anyone else in, I was sure as hell going to miss her smiling face around these halls.


	37. Chapter 37

There’s unease amongst the officers. Tension fills the air and bares down oppressively. For the last day, Dr Edwards has had me locked away, first organising his unimaginably chaotic office, then pressing and laundering the dirty uniforms, and finally on the roof tending to the vegetation up there. I don’t know if he’s doing this to protect me, to keep me under lock and key after Beth and Noah so obviously escaped or to punish me.

He’s been spending every second he can with me and I’m beginning to see a different side to the man I dismissed so easily. He’s not a fighter and I can tell he never will be, he’s too timid. He’d never get close to the action by choice. But he’s not as weak as I’d first thought. He has a manipulative streak that is disguised well and I can’t help admiring how he’s managed to play Dawn at her own game.

He’s seated across from me, shuffling papers as I attempt to organise the desk in his gloomy room. I’ve noticed him periodically looking up, as if he wanted to say something, only to snap his jaws shut and return to the paper in his hands.

“There’s something you need to know.” His hushed voice finally breaks the silence, stopping me in my tracks. “Beth, she—“

“She’s gone isn’t she?”

He leans back in his chair and adjusts his glasses. “No. They got to her at the gates and brought her back. She’s alright, she… Dawn…”

My eyes close as I realise what he’s trying to say. “Dawn punished her.” I state.

“Yes, but she’s okay, nothing too serious.”

“And Noah?”

“He made it but Dawn’s got teams out searching for him. He won’t be gone long if she has her way.”

A chill runs through my blood. Beth was right, there was no choice here, once you came the only way out was death. “Where is she?”

Dr Edwards takes off his glasses and runs a hand down his weary features. “Dawn doesn’t want you around Beth. She’s worried that you’ll team up and Beth will try again. I’m supposed to keep you separated.”

The hot burn of undiluted anger flashes through me and in a blind fury I shove everything off his overstuffed desk. For a second he matches my mood until a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You’re angry.”

“Im furious!” I spit.

“Because you want to see your friend.”

And just like that it hits me. Beth _is_ my friend and I’ve _missed_ her. Somehow, the doctors treatment had worked because I’m no longer apathetic to the situation, I’m invested and I’m fucking pissed.

“Look, Red, I’ll do what I can, but for all our sakes it’s better if you keep your distance from Beth. Just for the time being. I realise what I’m asking, and I know that it requires trust, but please, understand that I’m only trying to do what’s best for us all. If Dawn or any of the others see you with Beth all three of us are on the line.”

“Hardly.” I scoff, still fuming. “It’s not like Dawn can do anything to you. You’re the only doctor for gods sake, you know you’re safe.”

“She has her ways.” He retorts glumly, knocking the wind out of my sails.

“Can you at least get a message to Beth? Explain to her what’s going on?”

Dr Edwards drops his chin to his chest and sighs. “I’ll try.”

 

* * *

 

Things just keep getting darker and stranger. I’ve been moved, without explanation. One of the officers escorted me to an almost deserted floor of the hospital and locked me in a room telling me to wait. And I’ve waited but nothing is happening. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here as there’s no clock but looking out the window, the shadows tell me its been a while.

A thousand scenarios run through my mind. Was it Beth? Did something happen? Has she managed to escape? God I hope so. She’s only been back a few days but that’s all it would take to plan another route out. I’d tried to see her. I’d left notes in her room and in the pockets of her fresh scrubs but I’d heard nothing in return. And Dr Edwards was no help, “Be patient,” he’d said, “I’m working on it,” he’d insisted. Working on what exactly he never elaborated and I’m beginning to suspect he’s doing what he can to assist Dawn.

As the sun rises higher I begin to throw my weight against the door in a feeble attempt to get out. It’s pointless of course, but it feels good to be doing something, even if my stitches pull each time I land against the barrier. That is until it finally opens and Beth hurries into the room followed by a skittish Dr Edwards. Immediately I throw my arms around her. Relief and disappointment battle for dominance and I shake my head, heartbroken that she's not made it out yet.

“They’re comin’,” she laughs, “Rick and the group. Noah found them, and they’re comin’!”

Dr Edwards steps forward, his face serious. “You need to know that Dawn won’t let you all go. We’ve had word that they have two of our officers so she’ll only trade two of you.”

I’m confused until Beth turns on the doctor and hisses, “We’re all leaving, Red, Carol and me. Our people won’t stand to leave anyone behind.”

“Wait! Carol?” Carol’s here?

“They brought her in—“ Beth begins but she’s silenced by Dr Edwards.

“Listen,” he begs, “I’m not going to stand in your way but she will, you know she will. She’s already lost Noah, there’s no way she’s allowing the three of you to just leave. Think about it, Beth, you’re her ward now, you’ve spent more time with her since Noah escaped than any of us. Do you honestly think she’s just going to wave you on your way?”

I’m reeling. Carol is here and Rick is on the way. How did Noah find them? Is Carol okay?

“Rick will handle her.” Beth says confidently.

“Beth.”

“No! We’re all leaving.”

“What happened to Carol?” I need to know what’s happening but the doctor dismisses my question, standing between us he points to the door.

“Beth, you have to go. It’s been too long already. Go get your things together. Get changed. You can come back up when Dawn’s seen you.”

I try to protest only to have Beth nod her agreement. “He’s right, Red, if Dawn catches me up here she’ll punish both of us. I won’t be long, I’ll help Carol and then I’ll come back.”

“Just tell me that she’s okay?” I'm worried about Carol and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the meds kicking in or perhaps it’s because she’s always been there when I needed her, what ever the reason, I need to know she’s okay.

“She’s fine. A few bumps and bruises but she’ll live.” Beth smiles. “I gotta go. I’ll be back soon.”

“Be careful, Beth.” I call as she disappears around the door.

“You!” I stare Dr Edwards down and close in on him with all the self control I have. I want to beat the answers out of him now that my anger has returned but I compose myself. “Start talking. I want to know everything you’ve been keeping from me.”

To my surprise he adjusts his glasses and takes a seat with a weary nod of his head. “Okay, here’s the low down because we don’t have a lot of time. Your friend Carol got hit by one of our patrol cars after they’d heard shots.”

“They have a habit of knocking people down.” I mutter darkly. Dr Edwards ignores me.

“We brought her in and I treated her but she wasn’t waking up. Beth had to steal medicine to try and help her before Dawn shut off the machines. Thankfully Carol’s okay, she’s going to be fine but it’ll take time for her to fully recover. She doesn't have that now though. Noah was spotted and Dawn sent out three officers to collect him. From what we know only two are still alive, apparently one got taken down by the rotters. Your man Rick wants to exchange Carol and Beth for the two officers… From all accounts he doesn’t know you’re here yet.”

Chewing my bottom lip I stare blankly out of the window. Carol and Beth had a real chance of getting back to our people without Dawn or her lackies getting in the way. They could escape this place. Start again. Rebuild the community that was left shattered by the governor.

“Does Carol know I’m here?” I ask quietly, muling over an idea in my mind.

“Yes.”

“I need to see her. And Beth.”

“You know Dawn—“

“Dawn can be there too. I think she’ll agree to my proposal.”

Dr Edwards furrows his brow. “What proposal?”

“I’m staying. If Dawn promises to let Beth and Carol go, I’ll stay behind.”

“You know Beth won’t agree to that.”

“She won’t have a choice. I’m going to tell them that I don’t want anything more to do with the group, that I’m happier here. I’ll swear them to secrecy, I’ll say I don’t want Rick knowing I’m here so he doesn’t kick up a fuss. I’ll make them believe that this is what I want, that I want to be a part of this hospital. And then, when the hand over is happening I’ll stay out of the way, hidden from the group. Dawn can lock me up here in this goddamn ivory tower for the rest of my life as long as she lets Carol and Beth walk away.”

Dr Edwards tilts his head to one side and assesses me. “You know, it wasn’t that long ago that you wouldn’t have cared less about any of this and now here you are sacrificing a reconciliation with your people for your friends chance of freedom. I’m proud of you, Red. You’re doing—“

“Enough!” I don’t want to hear him praise me for my actions, not when I’m acting selfishly. The thought of being surrounded by the people I’d known at the prison fills me with dread. They’d met me after I’d spent years repairing myself only to see me fall apart and break again. Pride refused to allow them to see any more of my breakdown, not when they had all managed to survive there own toils without issue. No, I was the weak link and I’d be doing them a favour by staying here.

“I’ll set it up then.” Dr Edwards says, raising to his feet. “Beth isn’t going to be happy.”

Meeting his gaze I know he’s right. “I’m sure she’ll get over it when she sees her sister.” I reason, hoping that it’s true.

“Let’s find out shall we?”

 

* * *

 

 

Dawn is happy to agree to my terms. She watches me closely as I speak, her hand never drifting too far from her weapon. She looks tired but on high alert, like someone in a war zone, and the way her gaze keeps flitting to the window unnerves me. She’s like a caged animal and I think she’s getting ready to attack. As she leaves she ushers in Beth and Carol, who is in a wheelchair.

“You get five minute.” Her voice is cold and draws a grimace from my companions.

“Dr Edwards told us what you’ve done,” Carol starts, her expression one of defeat. She knows better than to argue with me and I’m grateful that she seems to have accepted it. Beth however is a whole other story.

“You can’t stay, Red. Dawn’s gonna take it all out on you when we leave, you know that.”

“I want you to respect my wishes and leave me alone.” I’d come into this with courage but now it was faltering as yet again I was bidding my friends goodbye.

_Friends._ Turning away I swallow past the lump in my throat. “When I’m ready, I’ll come and find you.” I lie, knowing fine well that they weren’t going to return to the church. I had no way of knowing where they’d head once they left the hospital, if they had any sense they’d get as far from here as they could.

“You don’t have to do this.” Carol offers, her gentle tone pulling at my heart strings even further.

With grim determination I face the women and pull my shoulders back. “I’ve made my decision, the only reason you came is to say goodbye and for me to remind you that it’s too dangerous to let the others know I’m here. Beth, think of Maggie! You lost your daddy, don’t lose your sister too.” It’s a low and dirty blow which earns me a scowl of disapproval from Carol. It’s worth it though as it seems to do the trick. Beth throws herself at me and hugs me hard.

“Promise you’ll come find us?”

“I promise.” Another lie.

“Be careful, Red.” Beth squeezes me before slipping out of my arms and stepping away to the door.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Carol asks and I can’t help the laugh.

“Have I ever?”

She smiles up at me and holds out her hand. With trembling limbs I take it and hang on tight, bending over to give her a tentative hug. “Take care of him.” I whisper, praying she doesn’t press the matter. “And when the time’s right, tell him I know he didn’t really see me, make sure he knows non of this is his fault.”

“Time to go!” Bello, one of the female officers, opens the door and jerks her head to Carol and Beth.

“Be careful.” I beg one last time, watching as they're escorted from the room, Dr Edwards following closely behind.

And then they’re gone and I’m left to contemplate my future at Grady Memorial Hospital.

 

* * *

 

When the door reopens I’m greeted by the ashen face of the doctor. “You’d better come with me.”

Alarm bells ring loud in my head and my blood runs cold as I follow him out into the hall. Without a word he leads me down the corridor to the stairwell, his stiff movements and unusual silence filling me with dread.

“What’s going on?”

We reach the doorway to the next level and he finally turns to answer me. “Beth.”

With that one word the ground shifts beneath my feet and I lurch forward, bursting into the corridor to face my worst fears. In a pool of blood, Beth’s lifeless body is sprawled next to Dawn’s. Her eyes, open and glassy and the spark I’d so loved extinguished. A hoarse cry leaves my lips and I sink to the floor in disbelief. How could this happen? For once things were going right, there’d been a light at the end of the tunnel. As my breathing stutters I crawl forward, closing the space between me and Beth until I can go no further. As tears roll down my face, I reach out and caress her cheek, it’s still warm.

“Red?”

Blinking, I tear my gaze from Beth to the person calling my name and see Rick looking at me in shock. Just to his left, Daryl and Carol are locked in a tight embrace. Behind them Tyreese and Sasha hold onto each others hands. Pain and grief surrounds us and just like that I’m part of their group again, united in our sorrow.

“It’s time.”

Locking eyes with Rick a familiar numbness settles over my body. He’s waiting for me to make a move, trying to figure out if I’m with them or not.

_Them or us_

I can practically hear him screaming it.

“She wanted you with us, she was already making plans to come back and get you.” Carol lays her hand on my shoulder and gently encourages me up. “You belong with us, Red. We’re family whether you like it or not.”

I’m so confused. My mind is a void, empty and black. I can’t think and I don’t know what to do so I allow her to gently push me towards Sasha and Tyreese. Collectively we wait, our eyes cast down under the heavy agony that comes when Daryl carefully lifts Beth into his arms and cradles her. Once he walks towards us the group moves, parting like the dead sea to let him through.

“Red.” Dr Edwards rushes towards me, holding out an orange container I know well. “I’m so sorry. Non of us wanted this.”

I haven’t the energy to reply.

“Please, take these. Keep taking them, there’s enough there to last a month. It’s going to be hard for you, but don’t give in, don’t give up. She was strong and so are you, don’t forget that.” He drops the pills into my pocket and turns away leaving me to follow my group out into the world once again.

In silence we emerge into the courtyard, one after the other. in the bright sunshine I can see the rest of the group and my heart tightens as I watch Maggie. A screw is torn from the depths of her soul and seared into my memory as the horror of what she’s seeing sinks in. And all the while Earl’s words echo in my head.

_It’s quiet on the other side._


	38. Chapter 38

Flat on my back, atop a moving fire engine I search for any clouds high above and contemplate my day. This morning I’d woken in a comfortable bed with clean, pressed sheets and gotten dressed into my fresh blue scrubs. Now I’m nestled amongst the hose pipe, covered in Beth’s blood with no idea where we’re heading and a closing numbness seizing my heart. I’m losing again. I’m disappearing beneath the wave of apathy and I don’t know if I should be relieved or worried.

The others are crammed in the cab with Abraham driving. How they’re stomaching being cooped up together, Beth draped lovingly over their laps, I’ll never know. I couldn’t do it. I had to separate myself, get some air, breathe.

The road stretches out in front and behind us. At a guess I’d say we’re going to find Carl, Judith and Father Gabriel but if they’re in the city or back at the church I couldn’t say. The sun beats down it’s rays licking at my skin and turning my face red. Even in the thin scrubs I’m too hot.

Why couldn’t it have been me? Why did _she_ have to die? She had so much left in her, so many reasons to live. Why the hell didn’t she just walk away…

 _Don’ fret non lil’ doe,_ Earl picks himself up on his elbow from where he’s laid next to me and looks down at my face. _She’s alright, already told ya, it’s quiet on the other side. She’s happy. She’s with her daddy and the rest of her family. Ain’t no reason to fret._

He’s not real. I know this. I’m fully aware that what I’m seeing is a hallucination but for some twisted reason his presence calms me.

“It should have been me.”

_Still could be. Far as I can see ain’t no reason fer ya to stick around here. Ya don’ wanna be with them in there an ya only friend’s gone now._

A tear trickles from the outer corner of my eye, running down into my hair. “I should have done something. I should have known.”

A figure appears, looming over me and kick starting my slow heart. Startled and afraid my limbs lock tight in shock as Beth appears, glaring down at me.

 _You did know though didn’t you, Red?_ She curls her lip in disgust, turning away to settle down between me and Earl. _You knew I was capable of something and you knew Dawn would fight back. But instead of doing something about it you chose to stay in your quiet room and keep your hands clean. Didn’t manage to though, they’re forever stained with my blood now_.

This isn’t real, it’s all in my head. My throat closes and dries as it becomes almost impossible to breathe.

“You’re dead.”

_And yet you’re talking to me._

My heart is thrashing around in my rob cage, desperately searching for an out and my stomach heaves. I can’t handle another imaginary ghost following me around. Another constant reminder of my failings.

I don’t even notice we’ve stopped until Carol climbs the ladder and calls my name.

“We’re burying Beth, over there.”

I follow the finger she’s pointing and my heart break splinters again. Daryl is carrying Beth across a field towards a large weeping willow, at his heals, Glenn comforts his sobbing wife. Behind them, a trail of mourners with bent heads follow, the sound of grief fills the air.

“You coming?”

It’s presented as a question, as if I actually have a choice, only I’m not stupid enough to think there’s any other acceptable answer than yes. So I move to the edge of the vehicle and climb down silently trailing just close enough to Carol to stop any complaints.

We reach the burial site and watch as Rick and Abraham dig the hole. The shovels rhythmically plunge into the dirt and with each fresh lot of mud they descend lower. I can’t look anywhere but down. To see Daryl with Beth flush against his chest, the colour and life drained from her, would be too much. To catch sight of Maggie… hearing her heartbreak is torture enough.

 _You could have stopped me,_ Beth sighs as she flanks my left side.

 _Ya could still join ‘er,_ Earl offers, on my right.

Time passes slowly until the grave is finally suitable. Beth and Earl, at least my mind’s version of them, say nothing else. They remain by my side though, happy to watch as I slide into insanity. Gritting my teeth, I make it through the short funeral, staying by Beth’s final resting place for as long as I can, waiting for the rest of the group to head back into the fire truck. When only Maggie remains I drop to my knees and whisper my goodbye to the lifeless body beneath the ground.

“Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valient never taste of death but once.”

I don’t know why I said it, if Beth even liked Shakespeare, or how I spoke past the lump in my throat, yet somehow the hoarse whisper broke free. Turning away, I leave Maggie to say her own, private goodbye and walk back to the truck with Earl and Beth escorting me. Thankfully they keep quiet, but I know what they’re thinking, if imagined ghosts could think, that is. I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I don’t see Daryl until he blocks my path, Standing up he pushes his face into my line of sight.

It takes me a few seconds to realise that he’s not here to see me but that doesn’t calm my nerves. What does he want? Why is he sat on the back of the fire truck away from the group?

As he dashes angrily at the tears on his face I understand why he’s hiding himself away. He’s mourning. At least he was trying to. Dropping my gaze, I have no idea what to say to the man. I know he and Beth had grown close since the prison but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him how sorry I was for her loss.

_’S yer loss too lil’ doe. If it weren’t ya wouldn’t be in this state._

Chewing my bottom lip, I shuffle around Daryl awkwardly. I have no idea how to behave with him anymore. Without the burning anger I have nothing, because I am nothing.

The thought stops me dead and I catch my breath. I am nothing. I was a mother and a wife but not anymore. I was a hunter and survivor but not anymore. I was a friend, lover, victim… but not anymore. What am I now other than here? I’m alive and I’m breathing but that’s it. I feel nothing because I am nothing.

In my peripheral vision I see Daryl. He’s glancing sideways at me, probably wondering what the hell I’m doing.

 _Well, what are ya doin’?_ Beth glares at me, her hands on her hips as she comes to stand in front of me. _How many more of the group ya gonna get killed? Ya plan on sticking around till they’re all dead?_

“It should have been me.” I mutter angrily, carefully navigating my way around the obstacles, both imaginary and real. Heaving myself up the ladder I wonder why the hell I bothered to leave the hospital, I mean, what was out here for me anyway?

 _Why the hell ya still fightin’? Jus’ give up already, ain’t no shame in callin’ it quits._ Earl joins me as I lay on my back and resume my pointless cloud searching. Beth is quick to join us, her petite form stretching out easily in the narrow space. _Earl’s right y’know, it’s quiet on the other side._

* * * 

We’ve been moving for days in and all that time I don’t think I’ve actually spoken to anyone except my ghosts. They follow me relentlessly, I can’t even escape them in my sleep. I’ve withdrawn from the rest of the group and for the most part they leave me alone. Carol is the only exception, she doesn’t seem as put off by my disinterest. She doesn’t even seem to mind my silence.

Noah is getting along well with them. It’s nice to see something good come from this bloody mess. But I see his guilt. He blames himself too, in fact Beth’s death weighs heavy on quite a few consciences. I see Daryl, his subtle pain filled glances at Maggie speaking of his anguish, and Rick, he wears his better but it’s still there, the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe he could have done more. I could tell them it was my fault, if I had the energy, if I could get the words out, only the words stopped coming days ago and it seems they won’t be back in a hurry.

Kicking open the barn door, I step into the building and out of the sun. We’ve made it as far as Noah’s town but we’ve split into two groups and I didn’t get to go with the ones exploring. No, I’m part of the second group left behind whilst Rick and the others scout Noah’s compound.

 

I had remained with them for as long as I could stand to listen to the stilted small talk, then I’d taken off. No one had batted an eyelid as I slid off the car and walked away. I guess they’re used to it now. Striding into the building I note the many stalls. It must have been a cattle shed of some sort. Moving my attention from stall to stall I’m disappointed that yet again there’s nothing to be found. With a slight shrug I turn to the door to find Daryl frowning at me over the top of the crossbow he’s wielding.

“The hell ya doin’? Why ain’t ya got ya knives out? Ya got a death wis—“ He clamps his jaws together and looks away, knowing that what he’s said is probably right.

It’s not that I particularly want to die, I just don’t see any point in living. The group can manage without me perfectly well and any ties I had to Daryl had been severed beyond repair when the prison fell. I guess the only real reason I’m still with them is because of Carol. I have no explanation as to why, I just know that I don’t want to upset or disappoint her. I don’t want to see her hurt, and so I stay.

In the doorway Daryl chews furiously on his lower lip as he trains his gaze on the floor. He’s dancing again, stepping from one foot to the other as his body tries to rid him of his nervous energy.

 _You’re freaking him out,_ Beth giggles, _I can see why, y’ain’t moved for at least a minute. Ya look like a statue or a robot or somethin’._

She’s right so I make a bit of a show of unsheathing one of my throwing blades. The second the weapon is in my hand Daryl leaves and I’m left to the company of my ghosts again.

 _I think he thought they might help ya,_ Earl nods to my blades. _Saw his face when he handed ‘em over, full a hope it was._

Ignoring him I meander out into the bright sun. There’s nothing here but the rotting stench of decay.

 _Bet it was mighty pretty here once,_ Beth spins in a circle to view our surroundings. _Full of life and people._

She’s right, I can just picture it all in my mind. “Not anymore.”

And then it happens. My blood runs cold and my muscles lock into place as I hear the frantic shouting across the way. Someone’s been bit.

“Why do we keep repeating the same mistakes?”

I want to run and help but instead I carry on walking away. Someone else is about to die or worse.

 _Ya don’t gotta stay. That there blade’ll slice right through ya, like a knife through butter. Won’t hurt non. Ya don’t gotta suffer no more._ Earl is quick to remind me.

“I can’t.”

 _Then go see who’s joinin’ us._ Beth instructs, her voice laced with sadness.

Like a puppet on a string I do exactly as she says. Spinning around I follow the sounds of distress until the question is answered. It’s Tyreese. Sweet, gentle, funny, kind Tyreese had gotten bit in the town.

I hate this new world.

* * * 

I’m losing track of time. Again. It’s not a good sign. Days and nights merge, and sleep does not come easily. After we lost Tyreese I was once again reminded of the pointlessness of this fight and I wonder why we continue. I see Sasha struggling in her grief but I don’t share it, not anymore, I’ve nothing left to give.

Then the vehicles ran out of gas and we were forced to walk. I don’t know how long ago that happened. A day ago? Two maybe? I ca’t be sure. Food is non existent, not that I’m interested in it anyway. Thinking about it I haven’t eaten properly since the hospital, but what does it matter? Anything I do get, I pass straight to Carl and Judith. They need it, I don’t. I’ve previously survived weeks on just water, I can do it again.

I’m distancing myself physically now. As the group trudge the highway Daryl will often disappear into the woods searching for food, and so I do the same. If he goes left I go right, enjoying the solitude the trees and my ghosts allow me. I can’t understand the need to find food, or why the thought of providing for the children drives me onwards, not when everything else leaves me hollow. It’s a bizarre juxtaposition of emotions that I can’t fathom and yet I still try. At least Earl and Beth do.

_She’s pig headed, shoulda called ya piglet not lil’ doe._

_No. She’s strong._

_Dumb more like. What’s she think’s at the end a all this? She gonna die anyway._

_Maybe she enjoys the fight._

_Don’ look that way t’ me_

And so they continue, my imaginary dead companions, back and forth arguing the two sides. It’s a frequent occurrence now and one I’m used to. It would seem that in my deprived state, Earl is my demon and Beth my angel, battling one another for dominance. I don’t usually get involved, what’s the point, it’s all in my head anyway.

_She’s got a job to do._

_Well she ain’t doin' a very good one, can’t see no food about her person._

“Maybe if you'd both shut up, I’d be able to hear what I’m tracking instead of your pointless argument.” I snap, knowing full well that I’m only arguing with myself and I’ve just made it a thousand times worse.

 _Ain’t nothin’ out here._ Earl sneers.

“You don’t know that. I mean… I don’t know that.” I scrunch my brow, trying to figure out if I’ve sunk to a new level of crazy.

“Red?”

The whisper of my name floats ominously through the trees and I pause mid step. Was that in my head or… Frantically I search the area, praying for the first time since Earl and Beth joined me that it was one of them.

“Who ya talkin’ to, Red?”

Fuck.

My shoulders slump and my head drops as he walks up behind me. I should have been more careful.

“Eden?”

Swallowing down my trepidation I think fast. “It’s nothing, I was talking to myself.” It comes out as a mumble as I keep my head low.

“Ya don’t gotta lie to me.” Daryl’s voice is soft and I’m thankful he remains out of sight so I don’t have to see the look on his face.

 _He’s right. Why lie?_ Beth smiles encouragingly and for a second I contemplate opening up.

He sighs and moves closer. “Where’d ya go? Ya standin’ right here but y’ain’t an’… Ya with me every day but y’ain’t, I can’t talk to ya, I can’t touch ya. Where’d ya go?”

_Tell him! Tell him you’re right here! Turn around and look at him._ Beth stoops, putting her face next to mine. _You remember what I said? That he lost a part of himself when he lost you? That he was broken? Well now’s your chance to fix him. Fix him!_

The force of her determination shocks me and I straighten up, my mouth hanging open. The words are there, on the tip of my tongue, waiting to be spoken…

“I miss ya, Eden.” Daryl whispers.

With precision I turn around, careful not to touch him in anyway. My mouth is dry and the blood is rushing through my veins, making my fingers tremble. Am I going to do this? Can I?

My gaze travels from his chest to his neck, and I note the tension in his jaw. Pausing at his lips I know that something has to change, that one way or another we’re going to walk away from this spot with a changed dynamic. Dragging my eyes up, I take in his face as a whole. He’s exhausted and Beth was right, broken. I’ve never seen him so defeated.

He looks at me with fear, his eyes meeting mine briefly before they roam the rest of my features. I watch as he tracks my scars, now healed but forever present.

“I was talking to Earl and Beth.” It’s a simple statement that I don’t feel the need to explain.

His gaze snaps up and he peers at me beneath his hair. “You don’t talk to us but ya happy to talk to ghosts?”

I chuckle and despite myself, smile. “It’s not like I have a choice, they won’t leave me alone.”

Daryl steps back as his face twists into a mask of horror. “Ya seein’ him again? An’ Beth too?”

“It’s okay, I know they’re not real. Doesn’t stop them though.” Pushing my hair out of my face I marvel at how easy I’m finding this. There’s no awkwardness or embarrassment. I feel no different than if I’d just told him I’d had eggs of breakfast. “They follow me around, arguing mostly. Earl’s still trying to convince me I’m better off dead but Beth… She started out mad that I hadn’t saved her and now,” I shrug, “not so much.” It’s the most I’ve spoken to anyone in a very long time and it strikes me at just how easy it has been to open up.

“Red?”

Without meaning to, I’d been staring at my ghosts. I refocus on Daryl.

“Beth… That ain’t on you—“

“You don’t know the half of it, Daryl, so you’re in no position to comment.”

 _He’s trying, don’t be so harsh! He doesn’t know what happened ‘cos you haven’t told him. It’s not his fault._ Beth argues, frowning at me with a pout. With a sigh I roll my eyes, nodding my acquiesce to a figment of my own imagination. Daryl notices, twisting his head to look at the spot I’ve been staring at.

“I—“

“Carol told me. Said you was plannin’ on stayin’ with them people. Said you made some bullshit deal so that police woman would let ‘em go.”

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t a selfless act. Don’t try making this something it wasn’t.”

“She ain’t on you. You did what you could—“

“No. I knew she would do something. I knew—“

“Bullshit! No one knew what was gonna go down. Ain’t no way ya coulda predicted any of it.”

Gritting my teeth I resist the urge to shove him. “She saved me! She protected me when I couldn’t, when I wouldn't help myself. She… I should have done more.”

“More than what? Ya weren’t even there—“

“Exactly!” I yell. “Beth died and I wasn’t even there.” Tears burn my eyes as finally the grief of losing my friend catches up with me. My heart thuds uneasily and as I inhale my breath catches.  
It’s all about to fall apart, I can sense it, and I don’t want anyone near me when I implode so I run. Blindly lurching into the dense vegetation I run until my starving body gives out and I can run no more. Collapsing on the floor on all fours, I heave and sob as the crushing weight of sorrow beats me down.

I cry as best I can but I’m too dehydrated to produce tears. Instead I struggle to breathe through the gasping silent sobs.

 _Ya gotta let it all out._ Beth says softly as she crouches down next to me.

So I do. It flows through me, consuming me and destroying me. It burns through the apathy and leaves me shivering and spent. The sensation of arms closing around me draws me out of myself and punctuates my heartache, allowing me to regain some soft of composure.

Daryl doesn't say anything. He just holds me in his lap, caging me in with his steadfast arms. I don’t fight him. I’m exhausted, so I lay my head on his shoulder and try to calm by shaking body.

Hours pass and as the light begins to fade I finally look up at the man holding me. “We should go.” My voice is rough and my throat hurts.

“Don’t gotta, we can wait a while if ya want.”

A slight warmth fills my chest and for a moment I’m able to smile. “They’ll worry if you don’t head back soon.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be okay. I just need a little more time.” It’s a layered statement and I hope he picks up on it. It’s also true. The indifference I’d been carrying around has dissipated and along with the anguish I’m remembering other emotions. Gratitude, hope… humour.

Daryl makes a low grumbling sound deep in his chest and it reminds me of our nights out on the prison roof.

“Alright, don’t take too long.”

Slipping out of his grasp, I ignore my aches and pains and stand up. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He stands for a beat longer, looking at me with a strange expression that I can’t quite make out through his hair and the dying light, and then he walks away and I’m left alone. All alone. No Daryl, no Earl and no Beth.


	39. Chapter 39

By the time I’ve made it back to the group they’re sat around a camp fire eating. There’s an uncomfortable air hanging over them and for some reason there’s a mess on the side of the road. Eying the scene I get the distinct impression that I should turn back and leave them to it and I’m just about to when Carol calls my name. 

Eyes glance towards me, losing interest as they see I’m empty handed until only Rick, Daryl, Carol and Michonne's are left. With a slow, hesitant step I cross the road and join them wondering if Daryl’s told them my secret. 

“Here, eat this.” Carol holds out a chunk of meat and I refuse as politely as I can. I’m far from hungry despite the severe lack of nourishment recently.

“Ya haven’t eaten for days, ya need it. We don’t have the strength to carry you if anything happens.” Rick says firmly leaving me little room to argue.

“Please.” Carol mouths. 

Not wanting to cause a scene, I gingerly take the meat and move to the edge of the group to eat it. It’s still warm as I pick off pieces and chew thoughtfully. I don’t have a clue what it is, nor do I care, it's sustenance and that’s all I need to know. I can feel the others watching me and I know they’re waiting for me to finish the whole thing before I’m released from their scrutiny, I’m just not sure if it’s got anything to do with what I revealed to Daryl.

Although, now that I’ve admitted it, I haven’t seen Earl or Beth. Since my emotional dam gave way, it’s been exceptionally quiet and I’ve felt much lighter for it. Perhaps I’d purged myself in the woods, perhaps this was me moving forward, I could only hope.

As the idle chatter begins to flow and people start to get comfortable for the night, I stand to find a tree to sleep in. I’m bone tired and hopeful that I might actually get some decent rest tonight. Searching the tree line I pick out a sturdy specimen a little down the road but before I can move Daryl approaches me and snags my wrist.

“Ya goin’ somewhere?”

Habitually I snatch back my hand and glare at him only softening my face as he flinches away. It dawns on me that I should probably apologise but before I can he shuffles away, finding a spot close to Michonne for the night.

Poor Daryl. I want to help him, I want to try and make it right only I’m too busy trying to repair myself to take on him as well.

_Don’ sweat it, ya can’t trust him anyway. How many times I gotta tells ya, don’ trust any of ‘em._ Swinging myself up into the tree I roll my eyes as Earl sits down next to me, ignoring him the best I can. It had been peaceful without his presence and I sure as hell wasn’t ready to let go of that just yet. Making myself as comfortable and safe as I can, I close my eyes and think back to my time in the woods with Daryl. It had been so wonderfully quiet. The ghosts had disappeared and with them my troubles. 

As my body relaxes and my mind wanders, I welcome the tranquility of sleep, allowing the gentle swishing if the leaves to lull me into a long awaited restful slumber.

 

When I wake it’s still dark but I’m rested and alert. I’d slept like the dead and for once they hadn’t haunted my dreams. Stretching out my limbs I climb down and step out into the road, my gaze automatically sweeping our makeshift camp to ensure everyone was safe. At the far end, Sasha dips her head, I mirror her and point to the trees. She nods again and that’s all the permission I need. The food has renewed my strength a little so it was time to push harder. We needed water and more food and I was determined to find some.

 

* *

 

Failure is killing us. Literally. Dehydration and starvation are taking their toll as one by one I see them fading away. Emerging from the undergrowth I join Rick and shake my head. I’ve been looking all day, sweeping the forest in wide arcs as the group soldier on. And I’ve found nothing. 

“Keep lookin’” It’s a plea not a command and so I head back out. 

Time passes slowly and I follow every little trail or track and still come up empty handed. Frustration and desperation cloud my thoughts along side the usual snide remarks Earl throws at me. Unfortunately Beth is no longer there to take his abuse and defend me, since my breakdown, or breakthrough, in the woods she’s gone and I’m left to counter his words. Not that I bother. After all he’s imaginary, maybe if I ignore him he’ll eventually go away.

Once again I return to the group only this time there’s a change. They're stood in a circle, looking at something in the middle of the road. As I reach them, Eugene strides forward and snatches up what looks like a bottle. 

It _is_ a bottle. Jogging to reach them I arrive confused and speechless as Abraham violently knocks the water out of Eugene’s hand. Open mouthed I look to Daryl for an answer. Where had the water come from? Why couldn’t Eugene drink it?

As I move my eyes to the water spilling out onto the asphalt, my throat closes and I’m acutely aware of how thirst I am.

“We can’t.” Rick says, and I have no idea why.

The group continue to stare at one another and the water with hopelessness and I can’t figure it out, any of it. We were in serious risk of dying from dehydration and yet no one was drinking the water. That’s when I spot the note in Daryl’s hand, _’from a friend’_ and it all makes sense. 

Someone had left it here, put it right in the groups way. They’d known we were coming, they knew we were here. A churning in the pit of my stomach has me reaching for my blade, something I’ve not done since the prison, but something that came so naturally I didn’t even think before doing it.

I’m just about to pull the knife free when a rumble fills the sky. Snapping my head up, I take in the dark clouds just as the first fat droplets fall from the heavens. Seconds later another hits my face quickly followed by another. As the next clap of thunder rolls through the air, we’re suddenly standing in a rain storm, getting drenched to the bone. All around me people laugh and celebrate the miracle but I can’t join in with their euphoric joy. I can’t rest when somewhere out there we’re being watched.

_Good girl, ya finally learnin’_

“Everybody, get the bags, everythin' you can find.” Rick and Abraham start pulling out bags as the others lay out whatever they can to collect the rain. As thirsty as I am, I don’t move. I keep watch on the tree line, ready to strike if anyone tries to come at us. I’ll drink when I know we’re safe.

The rain is lashing down hard now, beating against my dirty skin in a refreshing, painful way. It soaks me through, sticking my clothes to my body and dripping into my eyes. In the near distance the storm clouds gather, darkening the day and threatening us with the earsplitting crashes of thunder. This isn’t just a cloud burst, this is a real tempest and it’s heading straight for us.

Above the noise of the weather Rick barks his order, “Lets keep moving.”

Sensing the danger, the others quickly gather our things.

“Theres a barn.” Daryl shouts.

“Where?”

And we’re off, hurrying towards shelter, racing against the elements. Purposely I drop to the back, blade in hand, eyes constantly searching for any sign of attack. Who ever left that water is close, I just know it.

When we reach the large barn I’m the last one through the doors, having done a quick sweep of the outside to reassure myself we weren’t about to lock ourselves in a tomb. As I slip through the opening, the door is chained behind me and a bottle of water thrust into my hands. I don’t see who gives it to me, I’m too desperate to down the contents and quench my thirst.

Outside the storm is picking up in its intensity and it’s obvious to us all that Daryl’s saved us again. Without this shelter we’d have been ripped to shreds. Another bullet dodged. Slowly, we break into smaller groups and a sense of normalcy settles over us again. I hear Rick talking quietly and gravitate towards the group, keeping just enough distance that I won’t be noticed. He’s talking about nothing, just smalltalk, probably trying to keep everyone calm so I head back to the door to keep watch. Propping my back against the wall, I sink into the shadows and rest my knife in my lap. It’s going to be a long night but I’m ready for it.

The lightening illuminates patches of floor, shining through the cracks in the barn and the doors bounce back and forth as the wind tests their strength. I’m trying to work out our odds of survival when Daryl storms over and begins pacing back and forth. He’s pissed, that much is clear, and he’s so eaten up by whatever it is he hasn’t spotted me. Shrinking back, I take cover in the deepest shadows, watching him attempt to calm down.

He’s like a caged tiger and he’s making me edgy. I want to help him, I want to soothe him and I’m just about to stand when I take stock of my thoughts. I want to help him. Why? Because I care about him.

Suddenly he jerks his head towards the door. Following his gaze I wonder what he’s seen. He walks over, placing his crossbow down opposite me before peering through the crack where the chain holds the doors. 

Tilting my head, I hear him exhale and slam his body against the wood a moment before I hear the sound of walkers above the wind, their groans and hisses mixing in with the howls of the storm. Scrambling up I crash against the door next to Daryl, staring wide eyed at him as the first wave of walkers try to push their way in. The door gives but we fight back, resisting with every ounce of strength we can muster. 

Moments later, Maggie joins us, and we scramble against the snarling horde, trying to keep them out. The door bounces and I lose my footing, scraping my arm against the rough wood but before I can slip Sasha catches me and hauls me up. One by one the rest of the group rush to our aid and as a collective we struggle to keep them out. My arm burns from my fall so I turn, smacking my back up against the door, hoping that it holds. By my side Daryl mirrors my action and in the darkness and terror I find his hand, entwining my digits through his. If this is to be our end, then I want him to know that I don’t hate him or blame him for anything. I want him to die with the knowledge that he was one of the only people to get me to this point. 

I can feel him looking at me, so I turn my head to face him. The terror I’m experiencing is written all over his face and it leads me to squeeze his hand. If I have to die tonight, if _we_ die tonight, I want it to be together.

The door bounces again but we keep pushing back, no matter how badly they want in, we aren’t letting them. We won’t give up without one hell of a fight. And I want to fight. Despite the death and destruction, despite the pain and torture, despite it all, I want to fight. And with Daryl’s hand clamped tightly in mine I do. With everything I have. I fight to survive.

 

* *

 

The heaving stops, the door isn’t bouncing, the walkers are gone. Peering through the gap I can see only darkness. I won’t move though, not yet. As everyone else returns to their preferred spots I stand watch until I’m left with only one companion. Daryl.

Like a sentinel I refuse to leave my post so instead of trying to convince me otherwise, he joins me, standing behind me so close I can almost feel him. 

“You saved us, again.” I know he hears me, I can tell by the way he shifts his weight and creeps ever so slightly closer, but he declines to speak. I can’t blame him, not after my erratic moods. “Give me your hands, Daryl.” I hold my palms out at my sides, lifting them away from my body slightly. He shuffles a little more and I can almost hear his hesitant confusion. “Please.”

Large, calloused hands cover mine and I hurry to grip them tightly before he can pull away. “You saved us twice tonight. This group wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” Again I receive no reply.

Taking a deep breath and scanning the outside one last time, I let go of him and turn around. His head is dipped and his hair obscures his features and right then I know what he’s thinking. Moving slowly, I roll up onto my tiptoes to speak into his ear. “She said you saved her. She told me all about your time together. She didn’t blame you for what happened, she blamed them. You didn’t lose her, they _took_ her whilst you were trying to stop the walkers. Beth was _alive_ because of you. She didn’t die because of you.”

He recoils from me, moving so fast I almost lose my balance. Anguish, deep and raw shines from his glassy eyes and a scowl decorates his face. I know what’s coming next. He’s angry because he doesn’t know how to deal with the truth but I do, I don’t care about rejection anymore because I’m expecting it, I won’t let him push me away because he needs this. Nothing he can say or do will alter my course of actions.

I grasp hold of his vest and lock my hand around his neck. I’ll never be able to pull him to me so I step to him, pressing my body against his as I hug his torso tightly. His forehead rests on my shoulder and he’s quick to grasp my hips only he doesn’t fight me for long. A second, maybe two at most, before he’s pulling me to him and allowing small, discrete sobs to escape him. 

“She’s not on you, and neither am I. What happened at the prison, what happened to me after, none of it was your fault. I was wrong to say what I did and I wish I could take it back. You didn’t deserve any of it and I’m so sorry… She made me see so let me help you see.”

I cradle his bulky frame with one arm around his shoulders whilst my other hand combs through his hair, soothing him. I’ve said my piece and now it’s all on him, whatever he wants, whatever he needs to get him through this night I’ll gladly give. Because as the sun had set, unbeknown to me at the time, it had taken with it my desire to distance myself, and as the walkers had attacked they’d brought me a renewed appreciation for life, and now as the sun promises to rise, I have a sense of atonement. I want to make it right for me, for Daryl, for Beth. She’d been trying to show me back at the hospital, she’d been trying to teach me what I’d been too wounded to see. But my wounds have healed and I’m ready to try. I have a job to do. I have a purpose.

These people, this group, they’re my family and they do need me. Maybe not all the time but this new world is hard and we have to learn to lean on each other. I have to be present, I have to adapt. 

“We can do this.” I whisper and Daryl nods. His arms move to engulf me in an embrace so tight I go dizzy and struggle to breathe but my god it’s comforting. When he’s finally had his fill and lets go, I catch his bicep before he can leave and stare into the eyes I know so welI. “I’m right here and I’m staying.” 

He weaves his hand through my hair and leans his forehead against mine staring intently into my eyes. 

“There’s no getting rid of me this time.” It’s a promise, and I know it’s not going to be easy, but I have to honour it the way Beth taught me, the way Daryl, Carol, Rick and the others deserve.


	40. Chapter 40

I don’t sleep. Partly because I want to keep watch and partly because I’m too wired. Daryl disappeared off to the back of the barn and not long after Maggie and Sasha venture outside, I follow. 

It’s a war zone out here. Trees ripped up from their roots, walkers dangling from branches. How we survived unscathed is beyond me. I survey the area, putting down the stray impaled walkers as I go, silencing their annoying groans. The whole area was trashed by the storm. If we hadn’t been inside…

Cleaning my blades, I slip back into the barn and walk straight into a wall of muscle. Abraham chuckles as I leap back, mumbling apologies and a scarlet blush heating my cheeks. 

Daryl, who had watched me coming in, crosses to us in three easy strides. “Y’ alright?”

“I didn’t hurt ya there, sweet cheeks, did I?” Abraham stops laughing and peers closer, inspecting me for damage.

I know he’s part of the group and that makes him family, and even though we’ve been together a while now, I’m not at all comfortable around him.

“I’m fine. My fault. I wasn’t looking, sorry.”

The large man smiles and slaps me on my back. It’s a show of friendship but the unsolicited contact unnerves me and a jolt of fear pushes through my system. My nerves fizz and I can’t help the passive stance I automatically take. Head down, eyes closed. 

_Ah, ya still remember,_ Earl sighs happily.

“Y’ alright?” Daryl repeats and the sound of his gravelly voice breaks me out of my self imposed prison. 

Swallowing hard I gulp down the memories and take a breath. “Programmed response,” I explain, glancing shyly at his face. 

“C’mon, get some water.” His hand finds the small of my back and in a show of trust, I lean into him as he guides me to the back of the building.

“Everyone, this is Aaron.” Maggie’s voice rings out loud and the barn freezes as she and Sasha usher a stranger into our safe place. In a blink, Daryl rushes towards them with his crossbow raised. “We met him outside, he was by himself. We took his weapons and his gear.” 

The man smiles carefully and looks around. “Hi… It’s nice to meet you.”

_Can’t trust him._ Earl growls and I agree. 

A tension fills the space as Rick hands Judith to Carl. “You said he had a weapon.” He takes the gun Maggie hold out to him and checks the barrels. Once he’s happy he turns back to the stranger. “There somethin’ you need?” 

Sasha steps up. “He has a camp, nearby. He wants us to audition for membership.”

The room spins and I feel the blood rush to my feet.

Aaron grimaces. “I wish there was another word, audition makes it sound like were some kind of a dance group but that’s only on a Friday night.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for us to laugh but I see nothing funny in this situation. Behind the newcomer, Daryl prowls, his body swaying from left to right, drawing my gaze to him. He keeps his attention focused on Aaron who seems unaware of Daryl’s dangerous presence as he goes on.

“And it’s not a camp it’s a community. I think you'd all would make valuable additions but, it-it’s not my call. My job is to convince you all to follow me back home.”

The air in the room becomes thin and I have to lean heavily against the wall behind me as Aaron places unwanted images in my head. Another community. More enemies.

“I know,” Aaron sympathises, “If I were you I wouldn't go either, not until I knew exactly what I was getting into. Sasha can you hand Rick my pack?” 

The bag is passed across and I can’t stand any longer. As surreptitiously as I can I slide down the wall. Daryl throws me a look of concern.

“Front pocket there’s an envelope… Theres no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community thats why I brought those.”

My sight pulses and blurs and my sweaty hand grips the hand of a throwing blade. He needs to go, he needs to die.

“I apologise in advance for the picture quality we just found an old camera store—“

“Nobody gives a shit.” Daryl’s had enough, he growls at Aaron, forcing him to stop talking but his silence is only momentary.

“You're absolutely one-hundred percent right.” Arron agrees as he waits for Rick to go through the images. “Thats the first picture I wanted to show you because nothing I say about our community will matter unless you know you’ll be safe.”

Safe. Ha, that’s a joke.

“If you join us, you will be. Each panel in that wall is a fifteen foot high, twelve foot wide solid slab of steel framed by cold rolled steel beams and squared tubing. Nothing, alive or dead, gets through that without our say so. Like I said, security is obviously important. In fact there’s only one resource more critical to our communities survival, the people.”

Gritting my teeth I ache to let my blade fly.

_Them or us._

“Together we’re strong, you can make us even stronger. The next picture you’ll see inside the gates. Our community was first const—“

Rick puts me out of my misery, punching Aaron so hard he knocks him out cold. Words fly thick and fast but I can’t hear any of them past the rushing of blood in my ears. 

More people. More danger. More deaths.

But I’m stronger now. I’m not the same person I was when the prison fell. I no longer hesitate. If I’d been like this before, who knows what would have happened…

I need to calm down, I’m clear of mind to know that much, so I steadily inhale and exhale whilst rubbing my thumb on the back of my other hand. Over and over I practise the technique, concentrating on the texture of my skin until my heart isn’t racing. By the time I’ve gathered myself together Daryl is heaving Aaron across the room and Rick is holding a flare gun.

“How many of you are there?” Rick demands. There’s a feral look about him, more so than usual and it sets me on edge. 

“Hey,” Daryl sidles up to me and speaks softly in my ear, “y’alright?” It seems this is his new greeting for me now.

I give him a stiff nod. I am, I have to be, our people are in danger. 

Despite my answer he moves closer and I’m thankful, having him so close is building my courage and steadying my frayed nerves. Whilst Rick continues his interrogation I pay close attention to my breathing. What ever happens next these people, my family, are going to need me calm and in control, so thats exactly what I intend to be.

“Go in pairs—“ Rick’s voice pierces my concentration.

Daryl takes a stride forward and calls over his shoulder, “Red, ya with me, stay close”.

Obediently I follow him out of the barn. I hadn’t really heard what Rick had said but it wasn't hard to guess what was happening. We were looking for _them_ , the others with Aaron. We darted into the trees, crouching low and dodging the scattered walkers left over from the storm. I could tell by Daryl's tense, stiff shoulders that he was on high alert, it did little to reassure me. Finding a suitable point to stop he indicated for me to hunker down next to him and all but grabbed my arm to drag me into place. 

“I could get high, see more?” I could climb any of the nearby trees with ease and gain a decent vantage point.

“Nah, y’stay with me.”He replies quiet but gruff.

“I’d still be with you, just above and I could see—.”

“Said no.” It’s a firm answer and it’s punctuated by his hand curling around my wrist and tugging me directly in front of him. He waits for me to get comfortable then raises his crossbow over my shoulder, readying himself for action. 

“I don’t like this,” I mutter in a whisper, “it feels wrong. Why do what he’s doing?”

Daryl's breath brushes my neck and pushes a few strands of loose hair into my face. He doesn’t answer though. For the next few minutes we sit in silence and we keep watch. Aaron’s words echo in my mind. He’d promised safe. He was either lying or stupid, either way he was dangerous.

“Do you believe him?”

Daryl leans forward and I feel rather than hear his rumbling “Mm” of uncertainty. His chest is flush against my back now and I fight my natural instinct to run, reminding myself that this is Daryl. The same Daryl whose hug had calmed me yesterday. I know Daryl. He knows me. We’re good. It’s not Abraham. It’s not Glenn. It’s Daryl. 

Sighing I think wistfully of a time when I relished his touch rather than retreated from it. Back to the roof of the prison when I’d slept peacefully in his arms, comfortable with the feel of his flesh against mine. I wish it were still like that. Only it isn’t, I’m stuck here in this scarred, maimed body choking on the oppression that comes from having anyone too close. I inch forward, cringing away from his too hot chest and scratching my upper chest on the foliage. 

My escape is derailed though as Daryl moves with me. “Ya see somethin’?” He asks, scanning the area.

Words fail me so I simply shake my head and hold my breath. With any luck I’ll pass out and he’ll be forced to move away. God, I hate this. I hate that I can’t stand to be touched anymore, that each brush against me is a reminder of Earl’s torture. And I’d thought myself damaged before I met these people…

I drift back to the memories of my time in the woods. They’re blurred at the edges and even in my heightened emotional state I know that I’m romanticising them, but things had been easier back then, when it was just me against nature. Of course, nature had won, and that’s how I’d ended up in _his_ crosshairs.

Daryl.

Had I had known then what I do now would I have chosen a different path? Would I have preferred death?

No! Despite it all I’m still here and still fighting. I’d been down and almost out but I’m still here to tell the tale. I’m still pushing through, still standing and hell if I go down now without one hell of an epic battle. I’ve come too far. 

Closing my eyes I see her, the girl who wouldn’t let me give in. Wide blues framed by long lashes. Blonde hair and a smile so sweet it hurt to look at. Beth. I couldn't let her death be in vain. I had to keep at least some of her alive, even if it meant ignoring my very base instincts. If Daryl needed to be this close to help ease his own troubled mind then so be it. I’d learn to cope, I’d learn to accept his touch again. Somehow.

“Eden!” Daryl’s rough call brings me back to the present. He's stood above me wearing a look of… regret?

“Sorry. miles away.” I tip my head down to hide behind my hair.

He looks at me for a beat longer before announcing, “’S time to go back in,” and walking away.

Wordlessly I follow the winged vest all the way back to the barn. The others are already waiting, congregated around a table at the far end. Nervously I pass Aaron, eying him up as I step around him. He’s not threatening or menacing in any way and I’m starting to believe his story so why do I feel so unbalanced by him?

After a few moments the conversation starts and it all makes sense. Michonne, Glenn, Rosita, Abraham and Maggie had been to check out Aaron’s vehicles. We’d been waiting for them to confirm or expose his story. From all accounts though he’d been telling us the truth.

Michonne takes the floor. “We need this, so we’re going, all of us. Somebody say something if they feel differently.”

Rick looks to Daryl, his eyes sweeping over me to reach his trusted companion at my side. Daryl shrugs. “I don’t know man… This barn smells like horse shit.”

“Yeah… We’re goin’.” And just like that Rick agrees. 

A fizzle runs through the collective. Excitement? Anticipation? Nerves? I don’t know exactly what it is but it’s there. We’re going to this camp, this supposed safe haven and we’re going together.

In a dizzying flash, Earl is in my face, red and angry and puffing out his chest just like he would before the knives came out to play.

_Ya’s lettin’ these pricks lead ya to yer death!_ He screams and I swear I can smell his rotten, foul breath. _Thought ya’d learned, that ya knew better but ya still as dumb as the day I snared ya so I’ma teach ya a lesson lil’ doe. I’ma make ya remember what ya forgot._

“We’ll take 23 north, “ Rick states, silencing Earl, “You’ll give us directions from there.”

“That’s… I don’t know how else to say it… thats’a bad idea, we’ve cleared 16—“

_Ya gonna die, lil doe, a painful, slow death ‘cus y’ain’t strong ‘nuff to say no. Ya couldn’t say it t’ me and y’ain’t gon’ say it now. Ya pathetic! An’ ta think, I wasted all my time tryn’ a teach ya. Ungrateful bitch._

“No one is going to hurt you!” Aaron’s words momentarily drown out Earl.

Rick is quick to counter. “Tell me where the camp is, we’ll leave now.”

_Leave now, ya hear that? Ya gon’ be joinin’ me b’fore sunrise tomorrow. Now learn ya god damned lesson!_

I almost jump out of my skin when Daryl grasps my hand and pulls the knife out of it. The knife I hadn’t consciously known I was holding. The knife I just know I was going to use to carve into my flesh the way Earl used to.

“The hell ya doing?” He growls in my ear.

My mouth is dry. How can I explain it to him? He must see it in my face though because he doesn’t question me any more. His all seeing eyes sweep my face and he hands me back my blade. Dragging a hand down my face I absently tuck the weapon away and focus on the movement around me. We’d be heading out under the cover of darkness so I have some time to get my shit together. 

Turning my face to Daryl’s I try and arrange it so I at least appear calm and collected. “I’ll be outside.” He says nothing but I can feel his eyes on me the whole journey to the door. I’m only just through it when he’s at my side again, his hand around my bicep, tugging me around to face him.

“What happened in there?”

I wish I knew. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Daryl glances at the barn, scowls and then marches further away. “Red, please, tell me what happened.”

He already knows that I see ghosts so I don’t bother lying. “Earl. He got mad. Didn’t even realise I was holding it until you took it.” Daryl chews the inside of his lip and does his all too familiar dance. He’s nervous. 

“Look,” I sigh, “I’m okay, I’d have come around long before I actually hurt myself. Don’t worry, I’m not about to snap or anything.” I don’t know if he believes me but he shouldn’t, I have no idea what I’m doing or saying. 

Although that’s not exactly true. I know that I don’t want to add to his burden and I know I won’t hurt any of my family.

“Ya stay where I can see ya.” Daryl grunts, folding his arms and playing with his scruff. “Don’ go wanderin' off.”

He's worried about me and that isn’t fair. With everything going on the last thing he needs is another body to babysit. I lick my dry lips and pull the hair away from my face.

“I don’t think we should go. But I’m not in any shape to make the call. I’m biased because of these,” my fingers follow the trail of scars down my face and neck. “The thought of facing a fucking community…” A sinister shudder creeps down my spine. “There’s something about him, Aaron. He doesn’t seem… I don't think he's bad but that doesn’t mean they’re all like him. We’re fragile. I don’t think we ‘d survive something else at this point in time, we haven’t recovered from… Everything else yet.” I can’t bring myself to list out our recent trails and losses.

Daryl shifts, allowing his hands to fall to his sides and his shoulders to drop. He knows what I’m saying is true.

“If something does happen I’ll be there,” I edge forward and lower my voice, “I won’t allow myself to get distracted. I swear to you. If I’m needed you can count on me.”

“Ya always needed.” His voice is soft. “Thought ya knew that.”

“No, I’m not—“ I start to argue but a whisper stops me dead.

“I need ya.”

And in that moment I can’t see Daryl the hunter I just see a vulnerable man with the weight of the world on his broad shoulders and the pain of too many goodbye’s in his eyes.

“You’ve got me.” Without thinking the words slip from my mouth as a knee jerk reaction to his sudden change but I can’t take them back. Nor can I protest when he strides forwards and engulfs me in those strong arms and wraps himself around me. So I do the only thing I can, I fake a bravado I don’t feel and protectively hold him closer.

It doesn’t last long, a breath or two, and when he pulls away, he’s back to Daryl the protector and I draw strength from his demeanour. We’re both shattered and missing pieces, we’re both faulty but together I honestly believe we can make a whole, and that whole was going to keep out family safe, we were going to keep each other safe.


	41. Chapter 41

Things went wrong and once again we’re separated as a group. I watched as Michonne, Rick Glenn and Aaron got swallowed by the roaming pack of walkers, their car disappearing in an explosion of red mist and black night. 

Eric, the second and only man in Aaron’s team had taken it far worse than any of us. He’d acted like Aaron was dead and instead of it driving him forward to help, he’d collapsed in on himself, a quaking, jellied mess.

We’d found the abandoned buildings easily, some kind of sorting depot, and Eric had demanded we set off the flare. He’d argued that if Aaron was nearby he’d know what it meant and he’d lead our people back to us. Nobody had disagreed so Daryl had released the flare and shepherded the rest of the group inside leaving the two of us to stand guard.

All around us the night is quiet. There are no walkers to be heard and the air is still. I should be out there looking for them and I’ve argued as much but Daryl refuses to budge. Inhaling I get ready to start round two of our disagreement.

“Don’t bother.” Daryl bites. 

I let out the breath and twirl my blade. It’s been a while since I’ve used them and I’m wondering if I’ll have lost my edge. I’d practised with or actively used them almost everyday since Nick gave them to me until Earl had confiscated them. After that point they’d felt sullied and wrong and I can see now that I’d been unconsciously avoiding them. 

“Can I ask ya somethin’?”

With a tilt of my head I point the tip of the blade to the floor and wander back to Daryl. I’m curious as to what he wants to know.

“Ya said ya see him.” Daryl has one arm across his chest, as if he’s physically holding himself together, whilst his free hand plays with his scruff. 

“Earl?” I ask to clarify.

His face turns sour as I say the name. “Yeah,” he growls lowly.

“Yes, I do but I know he’s dead. He’s not real.”

“D’ya see him now?”

My head shakes of its own accord and I’ve answered before I had a chance to think. 

“Ya said he’s try’na get ya to hurt y’self.” He bites his lip and avoids my eye. “Was that what happened earlier, in the barn?”

So that’s where this has come from. Pushing my hair out of my face I slide down the door to the cold ground and pull my knees to my chest. “No, that was… something else. I—“ A sigh falls from my lips. “I wasn’t aware of my actions earlier, it was more like I was moving on autopilot.”

“Ya was gonna cut ya arm.” It’s a statement, not a question so I don’t argue, besides deep down I think he’s right.

“Earl—“

Daryl grunts loudly in a show of displeasure.

“Earl—“ I begin again.

“Don’ say his name, he don’ deserve it.”

A poignant smile raises my lips and I glance up at my companion. “He’s dead, Daryl, theres no reason not to use his name, there’s no power in it. It’s just a moniker.”

His eyes shine in the darkness and his expression cuts me to the bone. He’s hurting, more than he should be, more than I realised but I’m not exactly sure why. This is fresh, this wound is new. Patting the space next to me I wait patiently whilst he scans the area before joining me and although it’s hard and strange to admit, I gain a sense of peacefulness. Slipping back into our old routine, I lay my head on his shoulder. I hadn’t planned on it happening but when I realise what I’ve done I’m not sorry. He moves, shuffling a little to drop himself lower and then out of the blue, his head is atop mine. We sit with our intimacy in silence, each of us getting used to the feel of the other and the sentimentality of the moment. 

“If ya know he ain’t real, why ya still seein’ him?”

I wipe my hands on my thighs and shrug. “I’ve never been affected by him before, physically I mean. Usually he just says things, nasty, hurtful things. Sometimes he reminds me of what he did, what he was trying to teach me back at his camp, but today it was different, today he was furious.”

Daryl stiffens and I twist to look at him, my question written on my face. With measured moves, Daryl blows out a breath and holds his hand up. Slowly he moves it to mine, waiting for any resistance, readying himself to back off if I tell him no. When the rejection doesn’t come he carefully laces his fingers through mine and stares intently at our hands.

“Ya went away again, somewhere I couldn’t go. Ya was lost in ya head—“

“But you found me. You pulled me out.”

“Ya said ya was here to stay.”

My heart aches at his words and tone. Shamefully I drop my chin to my chest and allow my hair to act as a curtain between us.

“I didn’t mean to go.” I mutter shamefully. “I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t you who gotta be sorry.”

“Who then? Earl’s dead, it’s my mind dragging him back.”

“Me.” Daryl says resolutely. “I let him take ya, I shoulda seen it comin’ the second Maggie brought Aaron in. I saw ya react. I saw ya change.”

“It is _not_ your fault!” I whip my head up and catch his chin with my free hand, forcing him to look at me. “You…” My mind is whirling and I can’t keep up with the speed of my own thoughts. “I’ve put you through hell, I said awful things and now you think this is because of you but it isn’t. If anyone is to blame it’s him, it’s Earl. He chose to do this and I just need to find a way to live with it, but that’s for me to do. It’s my job to mend myself. I have to trust myself—“

_Ya come into this world alone, ya go out alone, ain’t no one there for ya ‘cept ya self. Can’t trust no one, lil doe._

The words die in my throat as I recall Earl’s first lesson. He’d been particularly brutal the first time he’d attacked, forcefully throwing his weight on top of me as my blades had bitten into my back.  
“Red?”

A solitary tear tracks down my cheek and I dash it away angrily. I don’t want Daryl to feel any worse, I don’t want him thinking this is upsetting me.

“What I‘m trying unsuccessfully to say, is that these are my demons and only I can deal with them. I’m not saying this to push you away or to try and hurt you, I’m saying it to get you to understand that nothing you do can make it worse. None of what has happened is on your shoulders, actually just having you close seems to help so please, stop trying to take the blame. It’s not yours to have.”

I catch his eye and we both take a moment to appreciate the fact that we’re having a full, frank conversation again.

“Wish I knew how to get him out of my head.” I admit. “Beth’s gone now but he just won’t quit.” I bump his shoulder with mine and offer him a smile. “I’m okay though. Really. I’m still here.”

His mouth hitches into a half smile and I’m reminded again of his beauty. 

“How ‘bout you?” I ask. “How noisy are your demons?”

He shrugs and clasps a hand around his wrist and dangles his arms over his bent knees. “Carol, she said I gotta deal with ‘em so I’m tryin’.”

“She’s a wise woman.”

He hums his affirmation and we lapse back into silence allowing me to clear my mind and shake the memory of Earl’s torture from my mind.

“Can I ask ya somethin’ else?”

“I guess.”

“What…” He clears his throat and fidgets. Whatever it is he needs to ask must be pretty big by the way he’s acting.

“It’s okay, Daryl, just ask.”

“What did he write…” He juts his chin our and bites his lip nervously. “At the church, I… I couldn’t look.”

“Earl? On my back?” I question, feeling his awkwardness and embarrassment. Taking a deep breath I close my eyes and recite the words carved into my skin. “It says, ‘trust nothing but death, that’s the only truth.’ It’s not exactly a motivational peice.” My poor attempt at lightening the mood doesn’t work.

Daryl turns his face from me. He’s feigning look out duty but I know him better than that. What I’ve just divulged will eat away at him unless I put a stop to it right now.

“Remember what I said.” I nudge him. He doesn’t move. “I was just a tool to him. A way of exercising _his_ demons, everything that he did to me was a product of that psychopaths mind. I couldn’t have prevented it and neither could you. It’s done now. Over. He’s dead so let’s not waste anymore time than we have, dissecting a sick and twisted man’s actions. I can’t move forward if I’m stuck on the past.”

Daryl turns back and in the weak moonlight I can see the glisten of his watery eyes. “Ya don’ mean that though, otherwise ya wouldn’t still be seein’ him.”

“I can’t dwell on what happened anymore.” And I can’t. It’s time to look forward, not back, time to get on with what ever comes next. “I don’t know why I see Earl or why he says what he says but I’m trying to move on. Last night, when the walkers came I really thought that this was it and I wasn’t ready. For a while there I’d thought I’d wanted to die but when it came down to it I fought. That’s got to count for something… Right?” 

Daryl hums again but it’s laced with uncertainty and it leaves me bereft. I’d bared my soul to him and all he can do is lay doubt at my door. Suddenly I feel foolish and small.

“I’m doing the best I can.” I mutter, pushing to my feet and hurrying away. It was about time one of us did a perimeter sweep anyway.

* *

I take as long as I feasibly can to check the grounds. When I return to the door, Daryl is smoking a cigarette and doesn’t even acknowledge me. I’m about to make a snide comment when a whistle from behind me catches our attention. Daryl whistles back and takes a few steps away from the building to confirm our suspicions. Striding back he bangs on the door and says one word, “Rick.” Within seconds we’re surrounded and just like that we're reunited. A whole again. 

One by one we greet Glenn, Michonne and Rick and as Michonne passes me to enter the building I meet her eyes and smile. “Maybe call next time you’re gonna be late, had us all worrying for a while there.” 

She grins at me and places a hand on my arm gently. “Will do,” she chuckles softly with a squeeze.

We traipse back into our shelter, one big happy family, relieved to have all our people under the the same roof again, but Rick is flighty. We’re staying the night here and he doesn’t want Aaron and Eric in the same room. A fissure of unease travels through the group. Most of us had met Eric and despite Earl’s disgust, I’d agreed that the man was harmless.

Cautiously Glenn steps forward to speak to Rick and Daryl uses the opportunity to approach me. “Last night,” he shuffles closer still and dips his head to my ear, “an’ today, ya been tryn’a show me ya fightin’ but I didn't wanna believe it ‘cos I didn’t wanna get my hopes up. Thought ya were gone for good.”

I move to face him and it hits me how close we are. My chest brushes against his and our faces are millimetres apart. Staring into his emotion filled eyes I’m torn between wanting to hold him closer and shove him away.

“I’m tryin’ Eden,” he breathes. “Losin’ ya at the prison almost killed me an’ after Terminus ain’t never gonna forget ya hate an’ rage when ya saw me.”

Rick interrupts him, telling us to rest up and get some sleep, we’ll move out in the morning.

“C’mon.” Daryl instructs gruffly and wordlessly I follow him to a quiet alcove behind some shelves. As we disappear from prying eyes he wraps his arms around me and engulfs me in an embrace so tight I can’t tell where I end and he begins.

“Thought ya’d kill me b’fore ya ever let me hold ya again.” He says thickly.

“Daryl—”

“Them scars, they kill me ‘cos they’re a permanent reminder I failed ya, an’ in the end, ya didn’t need me.” His gravelly voice catches. “Ya don’t need me like I need ya.”

“You don’t need me.” I retort instinctively.

He buries his head into the crook of my neck and inhales a long, slow breath. “Need ya more than anythin’.”

In my chest my heart is lurching. I don’t know how to feel. Too much is happening too fast and I can’t process it. I’m struggling under the weight of my own issues so how can I possibly contemplate dealing with his? But how can I ignore him? 

I can’t. There’s a pull, deep inside that won’t allow me to.

“I still need you. Today proves it. I don’t want _him_ to control me but until I’m rid of him there’s that danger that he might. Even when he’s gone though I’m going to need you, you’re my family.”

His hands grip my hips as he lifts his anguished face away from my shoulder. “Ya family?”

I know what he’s getting at. “I can’t make any promises.” I admit slowly. “I’m not stable enough to say for sure if I’ll ever be able to tell you what I think you want to hear.“

Hurt and anger flash across his features but when he speaks he’s calm and collected. “Ya can’t force y’self to feel it, an I don’ blame ya, not one bit. Don’ stop me wantin’ it though.”

Reaching up, I run the back of my fingers down his cheek “I don’t know what’s coming. What hell tomorrow might bring, where we might end up… I can only tell you that out of everyone here, you’re the only one who doesn’t make my mind scream when you touch me. You’re the one I look for when I come back from a hunt. You’re the one I gravitate towards, still, after everything. I don’t know where this might lead, if it takes us anywhere, I just know that you’re Daryl, and I trust you.“

_Always the trusting idiot._

Deftly his fingers bush the hair from my face. When I don’t flinch away he runs his calloused pads down my scars, tracing them softly until they slip beneath my top.

“We should rest.” I swallow in nervous anticipation of what the new day might bring.

His eyes travel from the top of my head to my feet before he nods.

“Daryl?”

“Mmm?”

“Stay close?”

A smile ghosts across his lips. “Alright.” 

We emerge out of our quiet spot to find almost everyone else settling down to sleep. The room is crowded and there’s hardly any space left. Daryl nudges my arm and points back to our hidden hole, raising his brows in question. I shrug. It’s as good a place as any I suppose and it doesn’t look like we’ll find anywhere out here. Spinning on my heel I follow Daryl around the corner and wait for him to make himself comfortable. 

The floor is hard and unforgiving but at least we’re dry and warm. Tucking myself into as tight a ball as I can, I close my eyes and wait to see if sleep will come. It does, and faster than I thought possible. Maybe it’s because I’d spent all my energy on yet another adrenaline fuelled day. More likely though, it’s down to the peace I find when I’m close to the person stretched out behind me. As I slip into unconsciousness I'm aware of Daryl shuffling closer still and I drift off into oblivion with a tiny smile. Maybe there was hope for me yet.


	42. Chapter 42

“We’re here.” Eric beams as the RV rolls to a stop.

Through the windshield I see the imposing gate, flanked on either side by huge walls and my stomach drops. There’s no way of knowing whats behind the gate as a protective screen blocks the view, for all we know there could be a hundred people laying in wait for us. A hundred different scenarios play in my head as I eye the view warily.

_Yous about to die. All a ya, an’ ain’t a damn thing ya gonna do to stop it is there?_ Earl scorns.

Up front, Aaron jumps out and rushes around to help Eric as Maggie steps out into the sun, holding up her hand to shield her face and take in her surroundings. Slowly, the rest of our group join her and I watch all of them carefully as they huddle together searching the area. Tension rolls off them and muscles strain sending a jolt to my heart and freezing it mid beat. 

I can’t face being caged in. I can’t risk walking into an ambush. I won’t survive any more torture but realistically what choice do I have? It’s my family out there and I won’t abandon them… Only I can’t move. I can’t think. And I can’t breathe. My fight instinct battles against the compelling urge to run. I need to get away only I’m tied to these people. Despite everything I’d been through I’ve found a place within my new family and we belong together. I’ve killed for them. I’ll die for them if I have to.

Earl sidles up next to me. _Take ya knife an do it b’fore they do it t’ ya. Least this way ya don’t have to watch ya friends die._

As if he can read my thoughts, Daryl clutches my hand and threads his fingers tightly through mine. “‘M right here, Red.” He squeezes my trembling limb and hooks his cross bow strap a little higher on his shoulder. “‘M gonna walk ya out now, we’re gonna go stand with the rest of ‘em. Together.”

Every inch of me is quaking in fear as memories bombard me. The prison, the feeling of being caged in, Earl, the bite of my blades, the nerve shattering anguish of realising I had lost it all. And here I stand on the precipice of that all over again.

“I got ya, Eden.” Daryl rounds on me and gathers me into a strong embrace. “This time it’s me an’ ya together. Don’t matter what’s on the other side of them walls, I got ya an’ I ain’t lettin’ go.” He releases me from his hold and snatches my hand back in his.

“We stick together.” I have to protect my family, no matter what. This time I won’t allow anyone to touch a single hair on anyone's head. I won’t think twice. Them or us. Earl grins his approval as my free hand finds the handle of my blade and I let Daryl lead me out of the RV.

In my peripheral vision I scan the area. Nothing jumps out at me but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything there. Beyond the gate I can hear children and it sets my nerves on fire. It has to be a ploy, there isn’t anywhere left where kids can live as carefree as these ones sound.

And then it happens. A rattle to our left has my blade in my hands and my heart in my throat but Daryl’s faster than the rest of us. His bolt loosens and pierces the possums fur before it gets more than two feet from the trash can it ran out of. Collectively we breath a sigh of relief and as the gate is pulled opened our group lower their weapons. 

“I brought dinner.” Daryl announces, holding the dead animal up.

The shifty looking man who opened the gate stares at us and I instantly dislike him. I don’t linger on him long though as behind him the view sends me spinning. In a world gone to shit we’re faced with breath taking houses aligned in perfect rows to create a suburban haven. White paint and clean windows gleam in the sunshine and the whole place looks shiny and new. There’s no damage to be seen, only neat, well looked after stress full of curious faces taking in the new comers.

“Stay close.” Daryl whispers as he passes me, and I note with relief that he positions himself in such a way he shields me from the prying eyes staring in disgusted wonder at our dirty, war torn group.

* * * 

I’m not welcome here. The Alexandrian’s eyes burn into my back as I pass them and I hear their whispers. My scars scare them. They think I’m feral. They’re not wrong.

After we’d made it inside the walls we’d been asked to hand over our weapons, at which point I’d been sure of an ambush. It was only when Rick had convinced them to allow us to keep our knives that I’d released my death grip on my blades. This hadn’t gone unnoticed by the locals. 

True to his word, Daryl had stayed with me every step, until he didn’t, not that it’s his fault I’m walking through the streets without him. No, that’s down to Deanna, the woman who runs this place. Having offered us two ridiculously large and luxurious houses, she’s now interviewing us, one by one. I guess if we pass this ‘audition’ we’ll get to stay…

Aaron smiles at me and continues his inane chatter whilst leading me through the town. I have no idea what he’s saying, I’m simply concentrating on keeping myself calm. The people of Alexandria seem almost untouched by the new world and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s at all possible that what Aaron has told us is actually true. I don’t get the sense that these people have seen any kind of fight, let alone actively seek people to bring back for slaughterer. They’re nervous and edgy and… scared of us. 

Aaron’s stopped walking and is smiling at me with an air of expectancy. “It’s okay, Red, not one here wants to hurt you, she just wants to find out more about you.” He points to the door of the house we’re at.

“Here?”

He smiles warmly. “I promise you, you’re all safe.” 

Safe? What an idiot, there’s no such thing anymore.

“And you must be Red, please, come in, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Deanna, a small, unimposing woman holds out her hand to me but I don't take it. I regard her with interest. She’s clean, I’m not.

She withdraws her hand and plasters a welcoming smile on her face. “Okay, why don’t you come through?” I do as I’m told, walking ahead of her into another house that shouldn’t be standing. Pristine books line the shelves and the high-end furnishings dotted about the place show no sign of wear or tear. Just like the place we’ve been allocated, everything is exactly as it was before the dead started walking. It’s like Alexandria has been preserved in a bubble, untouched by the death and destruction outside of the walls. 

The smaller woman gestures to a camera set up behind the couch. “Do you mind if I film this?”

Rick had warned us that she was documenting our interviews. I find it strange, who the hell would want to watch them? Who the hell cared? I shrug my shoulders in answer. I didn’t plan on saying much anyway so why would I care if it was filmed?

“Rick tells me you’ve been through a lot together, the group I mean. I can’t imagine it’s been easy for you all.”

I turn away from her and roll my eyes. She has the same air of naivety that Aaron does and it’s annoying. I knew all about the history she'd shared with Rick - that her husband had started the walls with her sons and how she was hell bent on preserving the community and restarting civilisation - but she’s seen nothing of what is happening outside her giant walls. She wasn’t aware of how the world worked anymore.

“Those scars…?”

I bristle but bite my tongue. The group had decided to come here, they wanted to at least try so I couldn’t risk offending this woman.

“You don’t have to tell me, I’m just trying to get a feel of who you all are and how best you might function in our community.”

This gets my attention. I spin around slowly and stare, unblinking, at the older woman. 

“We all have jobs here,” she says, sitting down on the couch and folding her hands in her lap. “You will too, if you decide to stay.” She emphasis the last word and watches my reaction carefully. “Do you want to stay?”

I’m careful to hide my reluctance. I don’t want to be the reason we get kicked out, especially given that the rest of the group seem to want to at least try it here.

“I want my family to be safe.” 

Deanna leans forward in her seat. “You aren’t the first to reference your group as a family. I like that.”

I want to tell her that I couldn’t give two shits what she does and doesn’t like. I want to scream in her face. These people have no idea what the world has changed into. They’re clueless. If she’d spent anytime outside the walls with anyone she’d understand why we are the way we are. 

“I used to be a congress person.” Deanna stands and makes her way over to where I’m now looking out of the window. “I pride myself on how well I read people. So I know you’re not happy about being here but that you'll do anything for your family, sacrificing your own needs to meet theirs.”

My jaw twitches and I suppress a scoff. This woman thinks she has insight but all she’s done is state the obvious.

“You seem like the kind of woman I’d want on my side. You’re fiercely protective of your people. You’re loyal and that makes you incredibly dangerous to anyone who poses a threat.” She’s a good foot smaller than me and yet even given what she’s just said she doesn’t seem afraid when I suddenly turn and glare down at her. “I think the people of Alexandria could learn a lot from you. I see you’re going to become a valued member of this community and given time, you’ll appreciate everything we can offer you. You’ve no need to be so defensive, we want to join with you, not take from you.”

“Everyone wants something.” It comes out as a snarl but I can’t help it. I’m at my breaking point. I’m suffocated by the normalcy of my surroundings and the blind trust this woman is placing in us. 

“Just because I want something from you doesn't automatically make it bad,” she counters softly.

 

* * 

 

Pulling up my hood I try my best to shrink away from the prying eyes of the Alexandrian’s. Hurrying down the street I burst through the door of our shared house and without stopping, take the stairs two at a time. 

I’m drowning and my lungs are burning, I need air, I need space. Cutting through the master bedroom I fling open the window and jump up onto the ledge. Moments later I climb out onto the roof and scramble to the highest point where I can finally breathe again. Greedily I gulp in the air and look out over the walls into the trees beyond, trying to ignore the claustrophobia the ugly metal barriers stir in me. 

We’d been here hours, locked inside, under the scrutiny of a community that has no idea what happens beyond their border. And during that whole time I’d been suffocating under the stress of what might happen and what had happened. I’d been wound so tight that it’s no surprise I’ve finally snapped, I’m just shocked I lasted as long as I did. At least I haven’t hurt anyone.

“Red?” Carol strides into view at the back of the house, a frown on her face as she places her hands on her hips.

I hold up a hand, acknowledging her and begging her to give me just a moment more. I know what she’s going to say, what they’re all saying. We need to stick together. They’ll want to know what Deanna asked and how I answered. They won’t want me up here drawing even more attention to us.

Dragging my hands down my face, I inhale a deep, long breath and make my way back to the window. With ease I swing my legs through the gap and land lightly inside only to come face to face with an angry looking Daryl. For a moment we stare at one another and then he engulfs me in a forceful embrace. As naturally as breathing, I slip my hands beneath his vest and around his waist, stretching up to rest my face in the crook of his neck. 

“I’m okay. I just needed a minute.”

His grip tightens and he turns, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You an’ me… We don’ gotta stay.”

Seven words uttered so low and gravelly it takes me a second to decipher what he’s said. As they sink in I feel their profound impact like an electric shock. I tense momentarily before my heart settles and breathing returned to a more comfortable speed.

“If this is too much,” Daryl continues lowly, “we can be out there, outside the walls.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He’s putting me before his family, the people he loves most in the wold. He’s offering himself as sacrifice to sooth my ravaged, broken soul. 

“Daryl.” I manoeuvre my head and lean away slightly to look into his eyes. They’re heavy with a sadness that compels me to stretch up and brush my lips gently against his. As we connect, I see his confusion melt away and then his eyes close and the kiss becomes deeper. Large strong hands push firmly against my back, holding me in place against his body as his tongue seeks mine. It’s so familiar I don’t try to figure it out, instead I close my eyes and go with it. Electricity charges through me and of their own accord my hands glide up his torso and wind into his long, dirty hair. 

This is my Daryl, the Daryl who loves me, the Daryl who just offered up his very soul. 

He kisses me hard, like he’s trying to prove a point and with every caress of his tongue I let go a little more. Any uncertainty I have is gone, burned away, along with the regrets and resentment. Who cares where we are as long as we’re together. 

He’s grasping at me now and the tenderness that started this has long since been replaced with desperation. Frantically he pushes his tongue against mine, asserting his dominance roughly. There’s no hesitation. There are no doubts. The only thing that matters to me is Daryl and I’m sure as hell not letting him go again.

He pours everything he has into the kiss until we’re breathless and forced to pull apart. I miss him the second the kiss ends which is ridiculous as I still have my arms around him and my hands in his hair.

“Eden.”

With this one act of selflessness, this show of what I mean to him, Daryl has put my pieces back together. The strength I thought I’d lost has returned and I’m suddenly unafraid of what this new town might bring. 

“We stay.” My hands run through his hair and come to rest on his shoulders. “We can’t separate, so we’ll stay.”

He lowers his gaze. “Ya sure?”

I am. Whatever funk I’d been in has fallen away. I’m finally seeing clearly. We need this place. Being out on the road was killing us and not just physically. We were lost in every sense of the word until Aaron found us.

“Yes. This place will be good for us. We need it.” 

He hums his response, his head still hung low.

“The people here are weak and helpless. I don’t think they’re a threat but I don’t trust them. We stay and we keep watching them until we figure out what to do next.” Raising my hand I stroke my knuckles down his cheek and he whips his eyes back to mine. “I’m here, Daryl, back where I should have been all along. I’m ready to fight.”

A crease forms between his brows and he chews his bottom lip. “Let’s hope it don’t come to that.”

I think of Judith and Carl and find myself nodding. “We can settle here. We can adjust.”

A knock at the door breaks our conversation and announces Carol’s presence.

“Everything okay?” She asks, tentatively stepping into the room.

“It is now.” I answer, putting some distance between myself and Daryl. “I needed a moment but I’m good.”

She eyes me up and down and then smiles. “Alright then. Showers through there. Clean clothes are in the other room.”

Dark grumbles as I stare at the bathroom. They have showers here!

“We have to try and fit in.” Carol admonishes. 

“They’re wary enough of us as it is.” I agree. “No need to make it any worse besides,” I stride towards the bathroom and grip the door handle, “it’s a shower!”

Throwing the door wide I’m rendered speechless by the luxurious double shower. A few days ago we were severely dehydrated and now I’m pulling off my hoody to take the most lavish shower of my life. It’s almost too good to believe.

Catching Carol’s eye she gives me a look. Tilting her head she briefly narrows her eyes before they sparkle and smile. “Welcome back, Red,” she grins. I don’t know how she does it but she’s sees the change in me. I answer her smile with a shy nod and she descends the stairs leaving me free to wallow in an honest-to-god, hot, welcoming shower.


	43. Chapter 43

The second Carol is out of sight I dive into the bathroom with my mouth hanging open. The tiled room screams opulence and the double shower stands proud against the back wall. Reaching into the cubicle I set the shower running and gape at it. 

“They have hot water.” 

I move aside to show Daryl, catching my reflection in the polished mirror as I do. It’s the first time in a long while I’ve seen my face and neck and it throws me for a loop. The incisions from the blades are no longer red and the stitches have long since gone but I see the mess they left. Lifting my dirty fingers to the scars I run my tips down, tracing the lines that are now smoother and light pink rather than red. They’re still ugly though and I can understand why the Alexandrian’s have been so fearful of me.

“Guess I’d pull off a convincing Freddie Krueger if we still had halloween.” I deadpan.

Daryl, who had been watching over my shoulder, scowls at me through the mirror. 

“It’s going to look worse once I’m cleaned up.” Stretching past Daryl I push the door closed and remove my top. Again I come back to the mirror and inspect my disfigurement. My stomach churns and I recall the sting of the blade as it sliced me open. Pulling my hair to one side I rotate to study the carving on my back. It’s messy and hard to read.

“Don’t.” Daryl tries but I hush him.

“Sorry, I know you find it hard to look at them.“

“Why ya puttin’ y’self through this?“

“Closure.” I breathe, letting go of my hair. Looking up at him I unconsciously I touch the raised skin on my neck. “I accept what happened and now I need to accept that I’m changed on the outside too. I have to accept that the first thing anyone will ever see of me is this and that they might never look past it.”

A laboured sigh leaves Daryl and pulls my gaze to him. I watch as he discards his vest and yanks his shirt up over his head. Dropping it to the floor he moves between me and the mirror so I’m forced to look at his back.

“Was a time I hid this. Ain’t ashamed now so, tell me what ya see.” 

I swallow hard before speaking. “I see broad shoulders and strong arms.” My voice wavers and I clear my throat. I know fine well what he’s getting at but his scars have never bothered me. They only hurt to look at because they tell the story of a time Daryl was in pain. 

“What else?” He grunts.

Trapping my bottom lip between my teeth I bite down hard. My body is reacting in ways that are not appropriate to the conversation and it’s taking everything I have in me not to act on the illicit thoughts running through my mind.

“I just see you,” I finally whisper.

“An’ I see you,” he retorts.

Digging my nails into my palms I retreat from him until my back hits the steamed glass door of the shower. The air is thick with emotion and I’m so close to giving in to my desire.

“You made your point.” I mutter unable to keep the huskiness out of my voice. 

Daryl turns in surprise. Seeing the distance between us brings a scowl to his features and he’s quick to close the gap. He’s naked from the waist up and I’m trying so hard to think of something, _anything_ , other than how good it feels to have his weight on top of me and his lips dancing with mine. 

Oh but I remember it so well. On the prison roof, his hands on my body, his teeth biting into my neck as I trembled in uncontrollable pleasure.

In an attempt to distract myself and feign control I open the door to the shower. The built up steam billows out into the room filling the space and providing me with some much needed cover. If I stare at him any longer…

“I’m getting in now.” 

My voice still belies the lust flooding my veins so I move quickly. Ironically I drop my pants in a desperate attempt at avoiding intimacy and dive into the shower, underwear and all. I don’t care, I just have to get away from overstepping the boundaries.

As soon as the water hits my flesh an involuntary groan leaves me. My head falls back in bliss and the fresh, hot water beats against my skin, washing away the grime and dirt that had clung to me for too long. 

A moment later Daryl has me pinned against the wall, his chest against mine and his undeniable naked arousal digging in to my lower abdomen. Dark, thunderous eyes bore into mine speaking of all the things he wants to do. In the look he wears there’s no room to doubt what he wants. 

“I. See. You.” The deep timbre of his growled words rushes straight to my core as his hands settle on the wall either side of my head.

I can’t deny myself any longer. I grab at his face and drag him down, crashing my mouth to his. I need him and I need him now. He matches my hunger, kissing me ferociously and tearing at my underwear. This is desperation. This is madness.

Clumsily we manage to remove my clothing without breaking the kiss and as I kick my panties away Daryl hoists me up. Looking down on him, the water raining on us both, I wrap my legs around his waist and lick my lips. I want to savour this moment, I want to remember every detail. The way he’s devouring me with his eyes, the scent of wet earth surrounding us, the heat of the water, I commit it all to memory.

Using one hand to support me his other roughly settles at the base of my throat and with a grunt he snaps his hips forward and thrusts inside of me. The world outside the bathroom melts away and all that is left is the two of us. Together. As he fills me I let out a second, louder and longer groan, spurring him on. He sets a fast pace and it’s relentless. He’s animalistic as he takes me against wall with everything he’s got. And still, I’m greedy for more. My nails tear at his back as I try to somehow get him closer. I have all of him but it’s not enough. He seems to know though, and he obliges me, moving his hand to my breast and burying his face into my neck. I’m gasping as his tongue snakes out, licking at the water on my pulse point before his teeth bite my flesh so hard it’s almost painful… Almost but not quite. Instead it adds to my pleasure and I shiver in ecstasy. 

Oh god this is heaven.

The hand that had been rolling my nipple snakes down, slowly following the contours of my body, until it comes to rest at the apex of my legs. Once there his thumb slips lower still and he begins to draw lazy circles right where I need him the most. His name gets caught in my throat and I’m helpless in his arms. There’s no finesse, no tenderness, this is salacious and rough and driven by raw lust. 

My orgasm builds fast. Flashes of heat run down my spine and through my limbs, coiling deep in my belly. With each of his manic thrusts my muscles clench tighter and tighter until I’m a writhing mess in his arms. I can’t hold on any longer. I come hard, gasping his name as every nerve in my body lights up and spasms. Nothing exists but this all encompassing pleasure.

I’m lost to sensation. I know my mouth is hanging open and my eyes are squeezed shut but I have zero control over myself as wave upon wave of rapture slam into my over stimulated body. Muscles contract and bone turns to jelly rendering me limp and pliable. I’m still riding out my high when Daryl’s climax hits him. His hand crashes into the wall beside me and he hoarsely grunts my name as his movements become disjointed and twitchy. His hips roll slower and his fingers dig into my ass so hard I’ll probably be bruised, and it feels so damn good. He gasps, choking down air as his body milks the last of his orgasm, and I feel his thundering heart thrashing wildly in his chest.

I’m still heaving and shuddering, and my body is spent and unresponsive when Daryl eventually lets me down. He takes a moment to steady me before I’m once again in his arms and cradled against the expanse of his wet chest. We take a moment to catch our breath, clinging to one another in disbelief and basking in the after glow. We should probably be heading back to the group but hell if I know how to move after that. I’m blissed out and content and I want to stay in my happy, post-sex bubble with Daryl for as long as possible. It seems I’m not the only one. Daryl makes no attempt to pull away. His arms remain tightly locked around me and his chin rests on my shoulder.

I sigh in contentment wriggling my toes to see if I have control over my limbs and Daryl reads it as a sign to release me. I don’t want to leave our sanctuary but I know pretty soon someone will come looking so we should probably head back to the group. Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. Shutting off the water we share a look that speaks of our desire to stay exactly where we are, before snatching up a towel each and drying off. We move in sync and its comforting to know that despite all that has passed between us, we’re still so tuned into one another. 

Wrapping a towel around me I’m about to go in search of clean clothes when Daryl pulls me back and kisses me softly. Without a second thought I twist around and lock my arms tightly around his damp shoulders. It feels so natural that I wonder how I ever thought I could hate him when at this moment I’m without a doubt I can’t live without him. As the kiss ends Daryl rests his forehead against mine and searches my eyes.

“Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that again. Didn’t dare hope. Kept tellin’ m’self that havin' ya alive an’ around was enough but it weren’t.” His eyes sparkle and he grips me tightly. 

I open my mouth but I can’t think of anything to say. I don’t know how to reply so I stand awkwardly, mentally kicking myself for being so inept at this sort of thing.

“Don’ wanna scare ya but ya need t’ know I still love ya, Red. I never stopped.”

My throat closes and the world tilts, throwing me off balance. I slump in his arms and he hurries to steady me.

“Hey, hey, y’alright?”

No, I’m not. My vision is wavering and a cold numbness creeps up my legs, draining me of both feeling and warmth. It moves fast, spreading to my chest, arms, neck and finally my head. Blind and shivering I fight to stay awake but it’s a weak effort and seconds later I’m out cold.

I wake as Daryl is carrying me through to a bedroom. It can only be a matter of minutes later and I’m glad no one else has seen me like this yet.

“Sorry.” I mumble, shaking my head in an attempt to clear it.

“Don’ talk, just rest.”

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine—“

“No y’ain’t. Ya just passed out.” He lays me down gently, pulling the soft blanket around my cold naked body.

“I am, really Daryl. I’m fine, I just, I think the heat from the shower and the,” my cheeks burn and I clear my throat, “the intensity of… what we just did.” I cough again. “Just, y’know?” 

He smirks and raises a brow. “That good huh?”

I’m glad to see his worry subside but as he puffs out his still bare chest and grins down at me I could happily slap him. 

“Just get me some clothes already,” I huff.

His intensity returns and he studies me closely.

“Stop it, I’m fine! It was a momentary lapse of consciousness. I’m good.”

A low hum reverberates through his chest, drawing my gaze to his.

“Daryl, they’ll be waiting for us. I’m fine, see?” I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

“Ya stay right where I can see ya. At all times. Ya sleep, eat and piss next t’ me, got it?”

“Nice.” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Mean it, girl, ya don’t take more’n three steps from my side.”

A slight smile threatens to break free as I contemplate the turn around in our relationship. A week ago his proposition would have sounded like torture but today it warms by heart.

“Okay, Dixon, what ever you say.”

He dips his head and disappears out the door only to return with an arm full of clothes. Tossing them onto the bed he separates the fresh clothes from his old, worn outfit and hurries to dress. Once he's sorted, he crosses his arms and leans against the door, waiting for me to finish up. Tugging the fresh trousers up I stand carefully, noticing how he leans towards me ready to act if I should fall. 

“Damn it, Daryl.” I look up through my wet, dripping hair, the smile I’d been hiding finally emerging. “I love you too, y’know.” And I do. It had been buried for a long time, over shadowed by the anger and grief but it had never died, never faded away.

He stares at me, waiting to see if I add any conditions. The trepidation is written in his beautiful blue eyes and it hypnotically draws me to him. I take his hand in mine and raise up to kiss his knuckles.

“I mean it, Daryl, I love you and I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through.”

“Ya ain’t done shit, Eden so save ya apologies.” His eyes flash dangerously and I watch as he stalks away only to return with my blades slung over his shoulder.

“Fresh start?” I ask hoping to steer us back to safer ground.

“Mhmm” He agrees, winding his arm around my waist and guiding me to the stairs. I make a noise to protest, readying myself to argue that I don’t need his help but he puts his finger over my lips and glares down at me. “Don’ bother, I’m helpin' ya down no matter what so stop ya complainin’ an’ get on with it, unless ya want m to carry ya.”

It’s getting late, I’m tired and night fall is approaching. The group downstairs have set up a makeshift camp and the soft glow of the understated lighting seeps up towards us but doesn’t illuminate the staircase very well. In all honesty its probably safer to let him have his way.

“Fine but you mention nothing to anyone about what happened.”

“What? Ya mean how I fucked ya so good ya fainted?” His smirk reappears and lifts my mood.

I chuckle and lean into him. “You’re incorrigible.”

Descending the steps I watch as a genuine grin lights up his features, giving me a rare glimpse of his teeth. He truly is gorgeous. As we round the corner into the room we’ll be sleeping in we remain locked together. If anyone is shocked they don’t show it. They nod to us as we pick our way through and take a seat by the window. Daryl sits first then tugs me down so I’m situated between his legs with my back to his front. We’re so close we’re touching and I can feel the steady thrumming of his heart. 

“Red?” Rick tilts his head and calls my name softly.

“It’s all good.”

“Alright then.”

Bending down I pick up one of my blades and lay it across my lap. Wrapping my hand protectively around the handle I lean back, making myself comfortable for what looks like a long night. Staring out of the window I focus on the walls and allow my mind to wander. Could I find peace in a place like this? Would I eventually get used to the walls and if I did would I become sloppy and weak? I toy absently with Daryl’s hand and contemplate this community. Was this going to be our salvation? The people here have lived for years in relative peace and quiet, could I return to that after so many years our there?

No matter what happens though, I can’t deny that I’m grateful we came because without it I doubt I’d be in Daryl's arms right now.


	44. Chapter 44

Even curled up next to Daryl with his heavy arm clamped around my waist I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. I didn’t trust the Alexandrian’s and I sure as hell wasn’t about to let my guard down just because they’d been hospitable. 

In all honesty I was surprised that the rest of the group had settled so easily. I knew they were exhausted, emotionally and physically but had they really forgotten the events of terminus so quickly?

We’d bunkered down together, all of us in the one room, much like the night in the barn, only this time I could pick out the soft, slow breathing of the sleeping. Gripping my blade handle tighter I carefully adjusted my position and resumed my steadfast watch of the door. 

Hours passed in silence save for the odd murmur or snuffle until Rick sighs. He moves to his side to check on Carl and then sits up scrubbing a weary hand down his face. Surreptitiously I watch him scan the room, wondering whether he too has actually been awake all this time. It wouldn’t surprise me, he’s as cautious as I am when it comes to this place. Feigning sleep his gaze passes over me quickly as he stands and wanders through to the kitchen. 

Daryl’s arm around me tightens and pulls me closer to his chest. “He’ll be right, just give him time,” he breathes into my ear.

How long had he been awake? Was he struggling to find sleep too? I turn around in his hold and pull my lower lip between my teeth, chewing on it as I deliberate his wisdom. Rick had changed since the prison, there was no denying it. He was wilder, unpredictable and even more dangerous. This wasn’t the same man who'd grown vegetables and tended to his live stock, no, this Rick was feral so it stood to reason he’d be as wary as I was.

“Ya slept any?”

I shrug. He already knows the answer.

“C’mere.” He tucks my head below his chin and encourages me to get comfortable. “You sleep I’ll take watch.”

My knee jerk reaction is to tell him I’m fine and that he should rest, only my defences are slipping as he cradles me close, his body heat soothing my troubled mind. I inch closer and slide my open palms across his chest, moving his leather vest to the side and laying my cheek against his heart beat. 

“Five minutes,” I mumble, allowing my eyes to close. 

He hums a response as I finally let go of consciousness and fall asleep faster than I’d have imagined possible.

* *

The people here are as mistrusting of us as we are them. They offer me hasty, tight lipped smiles as they hurry by, their fearful eyes drinking in my scarred appearance. It’s happening so often that I’ve taken to wearing my hood up much to Daryl’s annoyance.

“Take it down,” he huffs waving his digits at my head. “Ya draw more attention like that. ‘Sides, let ‘em stare, good for ‘em to see what happens outside their walls.”

“Sure,” I quip, my anger fuelled by his insensitivity, “should I also stand in a metal cage and you can charge them to come see the freak show?”

Daryl scoffs and returns to fiddling wth his crossbow. He’s sitting crossed legged on the steps of the porch looking like he hasn’t a care in the world and it’s pissing me off. I’m trying to fight against the swell of fury, gripping the white rails in front of me until my knuckles turn white, but it’s a losing battle. With each new person passing by I’m scrutinised and judged further and I can’t hold back my hurt and humiliation any more.

“I can’t do this.” I mutter, stepping over Daryl and heading out into the street.

“Where ya goin’?”

“Out.”

It’s stifling behind these walls. I have no idea how these people have survived let alone kept this false sense of normality in a world tipped upside down. It’s nauseating, like getting off a funfair ride when your head is still spinning. I can’t find my footing here but out there, beyond the walls I know where its safe to tread. 

I keep my head bowed until I reach the gate. The same shifty guy is on watch and as he regards me a slow shudder crawls up my spine. I don’t know what it is about him that makes me recoil, specifically, I just know that I wouldn’t ever want to have to go anywhere alone with this guy. 

The gate clatters open noisily attracting a few walkers that had been roaming along the road. They stumble towards me, their rotting bodies almost as decayed as the ones that had been napalmed back in Atlanta. These must have been some of the first to turn judging by their state of deterioration. It takes a second to finish all three. It’s almost effortless, my long blade slipping easily through the decomposing skulls with hardly any exertion needed on my part.

Once they’re dealt with I inhale deep and close my eyes. Inside the house last night the air had been tinged with the smell that came from an empty house that had been shut up for some time. Not musty but not clean. It was strange and unsettling, and despite the foul stench coming from the walkers, out here smelled more like home. The trees, the dust, the death, that’s what I’m used to now.

Without any real destination in mind, I traverse the compound, keeping close to the giant barrier separating me from Alexandria. Its well built and fortified and I can see what Aaron was talking about. There’s not much that could get over it without their say so. It looked strong too and automatically I push against it, as if my pathetic strength could have any impact. 

Following the walls I check for any more walkers but find non. It’s unusually quiet and devoid of the walking dead, and I’m beginning to see how the people here have survived this long. They hadn’t seen any real threat, in fact I doubt they’d seen a herd any bigger than a dozen or so, somehow, in this quit corner of the world, they’d been bypassed by the worse of the atrocities.   
There’s no wonder they’re shit scared of us then.

Rounding the last corner I head to the tower that looms high above Alexandria and slip inside. I’m still astounded they haven’t utilised this as a watch tower, after all it’s just basic common sense to get high and keep watch regardless of how little combat experience you have. 

Its dark in comparison to the harsh light outside and I navigate my way up the stairs carefully until I’m able to see. My eyes have only just adjusted to the gloom when they’re once again assaulted by the overly bright sunshine flooding down the top few steps. Eight windows bathe the room with light and provide panoramic views that are ideal to keep a close eye on everything. I take a moment to appreciate the vista over the trees and enjoy the tranquility of being up here alone before turning back to look out over Alexandria.

My gaze follows the road from the gate, sweeping around, passing the small lake and weaving between the houses. I catch glimpses of our people moving cautiously, exploring the community and hesitantly interacting with the Alexandrian’s. Deep within my chest my heart accelerates and a light sheen of sweat covers my skin. From up here it all looks so normal, so untouched by the hell that swallowed the rest of the world. As my vision wanes and I collapse blindly to the floor, I can’t help but hope that I wake to find this whole thing has been a nightmare.

 

* *

 

Fiery oranges and reds set the sky ablaze when I come to. Groaning, I sit up and try to ignore the numbness in my left arm from where I’d been slumped on it. Righting myself I use my good arm to steady my shaking legs. I have no idea what happened to make me faint and I know I should probably be concerned but I’m more anxious about getting back to Daryl before he finds out what’s happened. I don’t need him making a fuss and I sure as hell don’t need to be hauled in front of the physician they claim to have here.

Tugging my hand through my hair, I climb down the stairs and try my best to walk it off. My head is pounding and my vision in pulsing so I take a few good, long breaths when I get to the gate before announcing myself. I’m pleased to see that the person on watch has changed. The new woman stares at me for a second as I pass before she remembers herself and returns to the duty of closing the gate. 

It’s too late though. I caught the look. I know what she was thinking. Only one second inside these prison walls and already I’m desperate to get back outside. Yanking my hood up, I bury my hands deep into my pockets and hurry towers the house we’re using. I’ve no desire to get there but its better than the awkwardness and humiliation that comes with being scrutinised by the Alexandrian’s.

Drawing closer to our shelter I peek up and see Daryl pacing the front porch. I can tell the very moment he spots me because he freezes then crosses his arms over his chest and tucks his hands under his biceps. He’s pissed.

“The hell ya bin?” He growls the minute I’m in earshot.

I wait until I’ve climbed the porch steps to answer. “Out. Checking the perimeter.”

“All this time?” 

“Yes. I walked the walls a little then checked the woods.”

“And?”

His interest is piqued so I try to use it to my advantage.

“All quiet save for three walkers who were about to disintegrate anyway. And I mean quiet. Like, ghost town quiet.”

“Hmmmm” One hand reaches for his chin and begins toying with the scruff there as he thoughtfully mulls this over.

Over his shoulder I watch as Carol approaches. Only it isn’t Carol. The woman who likes like her is dressed in fitted pants a blouse and a cardigan. Gone is the assassin and in her place a bland, non threatening stranger. 

“You’re back.” She arches her brow and purses her lips. She’s pissed too. “It really wouldn’t hurt for you to try and be friendly, Red. Maybe instead of running off the first second you get you could talk to some of the people here, show them you’re not as wild as you look.”

I don’t know how to respond. She’s as right as she is wrong. Shrugging my shoulders I offer her a nod of the head and a very unenthusiastic, “I’ll try.” Despite being out cold for most of the day I’m drained and exhausted and the last thing I need is a face off with Carol.

“You should talk to Deanna tomorrow, find out what she wants you to do.” 

Daryl throws her a sour scowl and turns his back to us.

“Do?” I echo.

“She’s giving us all jobs. If we want to stay here we have to contribute, help build her vision of a community.” 

If we want to stay… Do I want to stay? I’ve still not made up my mind yet. 

“Okay.” At this point I’ll just about say anything to placate Carol so I do my best to convince her I mean what I’m saying. Pushing my hood down I square my shoulders and look her in the eye. “I’ll find her tomorrow, see what she wants me to do, maybe stop by and say hello to Aaron and Eric. Start small, y’know?”

Her sparkling blue eyes narrow momentarily and I force myself not to waver under her weighty stare. “All right,” she mutters eventually, “make sure you do. Make them think we belong here. And you,” she nudges Daryl, bumping him with her shoulder, “stop glaring at everyone, you don’t have to welcome them with open arms but you don’t have to terrify them either. Find a happy medium.”

He throws her a petulant look and she rolls her eyes at him. “You don’t scare me.” She chuckles softly as she walks back into the house.

In her absence silence closes around the porch. Filling my lungs I roll my shoulders to loosen the knots and turn out to face the street. The sun must have dipped below the horizon by now though I can’t be sure because of the enormous walls. There’s still a slight smudge of orange but a smattering of stars are fighting through the haze where the sky has turned inky. In my minds eye I see the sunset from the roof of the prison and think fondly of all the times I’d watched it, unhindered by ugly blockades.

“Ya look like shit.”

Daryl’s blunt insult pulls me out of my cozy memory and back into the path of his all seeing eyes.

“I’m tired.”

“No, I seen ya tired, there’s more to it.”

He comes and joins me, standing so close that his arm brushes mine. From the corner of my eye I see him nibbling on his bottom lip and then he reaches out his hand and lays it on the rail, stretching out his little finger to touch me. “We need this, Red. Might not be forever, might only be a few days, but right now we need this place.” He turns, leaning back against the railing and looking into the house. “Bin watchin’ them all day an’ from what I seen they don’t know shit about what its like out there. S’like this place got forgot by time or somethin’ ‘cos these people, they sure as hell act like they should.”

I know what he means. I’d thought something along those lines myself. “I think I envy them.”

He tilts his head and watches me for a moment. “They’re stupid an’ ignorant. These walls won’t keep ‘em safe for ever, an’ when they fall they’re gonna lose everythin’. They ain’t strong, they dunno how to survive.”

“But we’re all going to die sooner or later. These people have been living—“

“This ain’t living,” he growls forcefully, moving to face me. “They ain’t living, they’re existing. Most of ‘em are clingin’ to a hope that someone’s gonna save ‘em cos they ain’t figured out that this is all there is now. They’re waitin’ behind their walls for somethin’ that ain’t never gonna happen.”

“Yeah? Well I’d rather have been here, existing, that doing what we’ve been doing.”

He grasps the tops of my arms and spins me so fast I have to act quick not to fall over. I stumble forwards and instinctively brace my hands against his chest, righting myself and finding my balance.

“Ya woulda died a thousand times over if ya’d been stuck here all this time. Ya built for the world out there, that’s why ya can’t stand bein’ in here. That’s why ya couldn’t settle at the prison. This ain’t real an’ ya need real.”

“Out there, on the road, that was real.” I frown. “I didn’t need that.”

Daryl closes his eyes and lowers his head, resting it against mine and gently fastening his arms around my waist. “Yeah, ya did,” he whispers.

Brushing the hair back from his face, I wait until he’s looking at me to speak. “It almost killed me.”

“But it didn’t. Ya ain’t dead, instead ya here an’ ya talkin’ an ya tryin’.” Tears shine in his eyes.

“I’m here,” I agree flatly, “but that doesn’t mean any—“

“It means everythin’. We’re all here ‘cos we have to be. Yeah we lost people, good people, people who deserve to be here but this life ain’t about what ya deserve no more. It’s about fightin’ and survivin’ an’ doin' what needs to be done. Ya did what ya did ‘cos it needed to be done. Ya here cos ya need to be. Ya fightin’ cos ya have ta.”

“I’m here because people saved me.” Averting my gaze into the dark street I think back on all the times he’d saved me. And there wasn’t just him. Beth had saved me too.

“Ain’t no different for the rest of us. We’re all here cos we gotta be, cos we gotta keep each other safe.”

“What’s your point, Daryl?”

He cups my cheek and guides my face back to his. “My point is that we’ll be alright as long as we all stick together. Ya don’t gotta do it on ya own. Them walls, it ain’t yer responsibility to make sure they stay up. An it ain’t yer responsibility to keep watch over us all at night. She weren’t on you…”

The pain etched into his eyes when he thinks of Beth is excruciating and I can’t bare to look. Breaking out of his hold I put some space between us and settle on the bottom step, kicking at the floor with my worn boot. “Maybe not but I’m not about to let anything happen to any of them in there because of a mistake I make. I can’t go through that again.”

“Ya not listenin’"

“I am! I hear you—“

“We’re a team. We all got our jobs to do, we all look out for each other.”

_You’ve got a job to do._

Beth’s voice now a distant memory, echoes in the depth of my mind. Rubbing my face I try and scrub away her big blue eyes and wide, innocent smile. “What is my job then if it’s not to look out for my family?”

Daryl huffs. “Guess ya’ll find out when ya see Deanna tomorrow.”

“So you want me to play nice too?”

He hums softly. “Can’t hurt for the moment.” Sitting down next to me he pulls out his cigarettes and lights one. “We ain’t gotta become like ‘em, ya don’ have to pretend ya somethin’ ya not.”

“Well that’s something because I’m never going to wear whatever the hell costume it is Carol’s got on.”

“Glad to hear it,” Daryl chuckles, snatching my hand in his and caressing my knuckles with his thumb.

Behind us someone clears their throat as they push through the door. It’s Rick.

“Daryl, y’mind…?”

“It’s fine,” I announce, as Daryl and I stand in unison, “I was heading in anyway.”

Passing Rick I offer him a smile. I’m still getting used to seeing him without his beard, he looks so much younger than he did except in his eyes, they tell the truth of the hell he’s been through. 

It’s only as I get to the door that Daryl stops walking with me and he doesn’t release my hand until the very last second. Walking into the house backwards, I extend my smile to Daryl and for a rare moment, he matches it. 

“Red!” Tara calls from the middle of the house and just like that I’m drawn into a conversation about the washer in the garage.

Yes, Alexandria is going to take a whole lot of adjusting to.


	45. Chapter 45

Last night had gone the same way as the night before. When the sun rises I’m no more rested but my exhaustion has stepped up a notch. In the bathroom, with the door locked, I try everything I can think of to appear more refreshed than I feel only the telltale dark purple circles wont leave my bloodshot eyes. Accepting defeat I rejoin the group under Daryl’s watchful eyes and purposely jump into conversation with Tara and Glenn. 

“Deanna hasn’t assigned you a job yet, has she?” Tara cocks her head and frowns. “Maybe we should ask her to let you come with us.”

My interest is piqued. “Who, you two? Where are you going?”

Glen shrugs. “She wants us on the runs along side some of her own.”

That’s smart, using our experience of life outside the walls to bolster their own team. And the people Deanna chose, Glenn and Tara, they work well together… Is it possible that this woman might have some idea what she’s doing?

“Red?” Carol strides over to us with an expectant look on her face. She’s still wearing those ridiculous clothes and I can’t help the smile that pulls the corners of my mouth upwards. “Well that’s a huge improvement,” she comments, pointing to my grin, “think you can keep that up for the people out there?”

During the night I’d decided once and for all that I didn’t want to be here, in Alexandria. No matter what anyone says I can’t settle behind these walls. I don’t cope well with claustrophobia and I can’t handle being locked in, however, I’d come to the realisation that I didn’t have a choice. I could have the freedom I carved but the price was something I would never pay. I refused to leave my family behind. I could cope with the walls, hell, I’d managed back at the prison, what I couldn’t live without were the people in this room. No, I didn’t want to be here but hell, I was sure as shit going to make it work.

“Carol, can we talk?” 

She’s wary, I can see it in the way her mouth turns down and her eyes narrow. Silently she nods and gestures for us to head outside. As soon as the door closes and she’s checked the street is near she folds her arms over her chest and stares intently at me.

“What’s on your mind, Red?”

With an ironic huff of laughter I shake my head. “How long you got?”

“Look, I know how you feel about this place—“

“Do you?”

She sighs. “You think I honesty trust these people after everything we’ve seen? After everything we’ve _done_? I’m ready to do what is necessary to keep us safe, even if it means taking this place out from under them. You’re not alone in your mistrust, Red, but we have to play it carefully.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemy’s closer?” I ask, considering her point of view.

“Exactly. See how quickly they’ve welcomed me? I’m no threat to them or their way of living, they’re happy to have me on board because they think I’m just like them. I’m invisible now. But you, you’re scaring the shit out of them. You’re everything they aren’t and they know that you could take them down so they’re wary of you. They’re watching your every move because they think you’re going to hurt them. Show them you won’t.”

“Even though I might.”

“Even though you might. It this all goes south, these people won’t be looking at me, they won’t see me coming because they're going to be focussed on the likes of you and Daryl, but imagine if they weren’t, imagine if they had no idea, how much safer we could all be. Get them looking back out there, and if it does come down to it, if they aren’t who they need to be, they won’t be ready for us when we strike.”

I exhale a shaky breath and lean heavily on the porch balustrade. “Thank god!” A genuine chuckle bubbles out of me and I allow it to grow into a full laugh. “Jesus Carol, I was genuinely worried you’d lost your mind. Couldn’t you have told me your plan from the start?”

“I figured you knew. Thought you were smart enough to work it out,” she chastises with a roll of her eyes and a small smile of her own.

“So what should I do?”

“Go see Deanna. Smile. Play nice. We’ll bide our time and see where this heads.”

“And what about the others?” I spin around and rest my backside on the white wooden rail. “Do they all know what’s going on?”

Carol shakes her head. “No.” She tilts her head and looks at me. “I think it best we keep this between ourselves. They need this to work.”

She’s right. Inside the house, our people are happy and smiling and the atmosphere is light and untroubled. 

“Okay.” I nod and straighten up. “I know what I need to do. Just… Keep me in the loop alright?”

She reaches out and lays her hand on my shoulder, “Trust me.”

 

* * *

“The hell ya wanna see her for?” Daryl isn’t happy when I tell him about my plans to visit Deanna to ask for a job. He’s pacing back on forth through the now empty house, throwing his hands in the air.

“You know why.”

“Y’ain’t gotta do everythin’ Carol tells ya. Just cus it’s what she’s doin’ don’t make it right for you. Ya ain’t Carol.”

“No, I’m not, and that's why I can’t walk out of this door without all eyes watching my every damn move. You think that helps when it comes to feeling penned in? You think I like being stared at and judged by people who have no idea what it’s been like out there?”

“Don’t see why ya lettin’ ‘em bother ya.”

“And I don’t understand why this is upsetting you so much. I don’t see you screaming at Carol.”

“Ya don’ see me fuckin’ Carol neither,” he snaps, glaring at me.

Flexing my fingers I wait for my anger to subside before I answer. “This is happening, Daryl. I’m going to start trying—“

“Ya do what ya want, ya gonna no matter what I say.”

“Daryl!” Groaning in frustration I flop down onto the couch and run my hands through my hair. “You know why I’m doing this.”

He grunts and as he marches past me I reach out and snag hold of his arm. He stops dead and turns his angry gaze to mine.

“Daryl, please. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“I ain’t. This is all on you, Red.” He snatches his arm out of my grasp and stomps away, heading up the stairs and out of sight. 

I take a moment to absorb the stillness after the storm that was Daryl. I’m not sure what has brought about his reaction but I’m sure it stems from a good place. This is Daryl after all. Chewing on my lip, I glance up at the ceiling, imagining him sprawled out on one of the beds, his dirty boots thrown on to the bedspread without care. I know that given time he’ll calm down and come around so I refuse to let him get to me. He won’t derail my plans.

Picking myself up I brush off my clothes and fasten my knives to my back, after all, if I’m going to put on this show I’m going to need my safety blanket. Making sure they're strapped in place, I pull back my shoulders, put a timid smile on my face and head out into the streets of Alexandria. 

It doesn’t take me long to find my way to Deanna’s house. Once there I see Maggie sitting by the window, relaxed and smiling, and instantly my stress levels drop. She spots me loitering and waves before motioning to someone behind her. Swallowing down my trepidation I climb the stairs to the door and am just about to knock when it opens.

“Oh!”

I step back but I’m not fast enough as a man strides out and walks directly into me. The force of our collision sends me teetering dangerously towards the bottom step but the fall never comes. The man reacts quickly, grabbing the top of my arms and yanking me towards him. The momentum sends us staggering into the house, blindly stumbling against one another until we crash into a wall and come to an abrupt stop.

“Shit! Sorry!” 

My heart is racing and my sweaty palms slide against the knives in my belt as the stranger releases me and hastily puts distance between us. I’m frozen with fear and uncertainty knowing that this was all an accident but desperately wanting to act on my intuition and let my blades fly.

“Spencer!” Deanna rushes into the hallway. “What are you doing to this poor woman?” She scolds. With her hands held open towards me in a sign of surrender, she places herself between myself and Spencer and offers me an apologetic smile “Red, I’m so sorry, this is my son, Spencer.” She looks over her shoulder with a mixture of pride and embarrassment.

“Red, it’s alright.” Maggie says softly as she appears next to me and slips her arm through mine, gently towing me into the living room.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out there.” Spencer rushes to explain.

The shock is wearing off and I’m gaining confidence from Maggie. Finding my voice I shake my head. “No, no, it was my fault.” I offer timidly. “I would have fallen if you’d not helped me.”

“You okay?” Maggie whispers, stepping closer so no one else would hear.

I give her a curt nod and taking a deep breath, move out of her hold. Ignoring my basic instinct to run, I square my shoulders and look Spencer in the eye. “Thank you Spencer, you stopped me from falling on my ass.” I offer a weak smile.

He matches it with a one hundred watt grin and offers his hand out for me to shake. “My pleasure, here shall we start again? Hi, I’m Spencer.”

Wiping my damp palm down my trousers I shuffle forward and place my much smaller hand in his. “Red.” I mumble, unable to quite meet his eye.

“Well, Red, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he chuckles, “sorry to run after such a memorable introduction but I’m needed out on the building site.” 

“Get over there and for god’s sake, look where you’re going.” Deanna laughs, ushering her son rom the room.

“Hopefully catch you around, Red.” Spencer calls.

“Well, that was quite the welcome.” Deanna smiles, walking back into the room.

The whole thing has thrown me and I’ve lost the fake-confidence I’d brought over with me. Under the smaller woman’s eyes I feel myself shrinking until I can no longer bear to look at her. Thankfully Maggie comes to my aid.

“I think Red came over to ask about a job.”

“Oh.” 

I allow them to discuss me like I’m not there as I recompose myself. I know it’s demeaning and it doesn’t look good on my part so I try to calm my racing mind as fast as possible.

“You’re a hunter.” Deanna suddenly states, stepping closer to get a good look at me. “And Nicholas told me how you handled the dead outside the gate yesterday.”

I meet her eyes with confusion. Nicholas? She must be talking about the shifty looking guy who was on guard duty.

“We could use someone with your skills to patrol the immediate area around Alexandria, keep an eye on what might be happening, make sure we don’t get too many dead wandering too close to our community.”

I’m about to scoff at her when my brain starts to function properly again. What she’s offering means I’d get to legitimately spend most of my time outside of the walls. I wouldn’t have to stay cooped up inside. The fact that there’s virtually no threat from walkers just means I’d have more free time to scavenge and hunt. 

Deanna’s smile widens and she clasps her hands together. “I take it by that look you’re wearing, you’re happy with this?” 

“Yes.” I swallow and try to find my voice. “I mean,” a sigh escapes me and I look to Maggie for help, “I’ll do whatever you need me to but I’m good out there. I’m good at putting walkers down and not just walkers.”

Maggie nods enthusiastically. “She’s right. At the prison she used to take down whole herds of walkers. She was one of our most skilled fighters.”

“Then it’s settled.” Deanna announces, obviously pleased with herself.

Unable to continue the pretence of confidence any longer I all but run from the room and let myself out. Without even thinking about it I head straight to the gate and out into the freedom of the woods.

* *

Three walkers. The same as yesterday. Only this time they hadn’t been in a group. In the hours that I’ve been out here I’ve dealt with three walkers and I’m bored. Heading east I kick at the forest floor and sigh. If only there had been something out here to take my mind off of what happened at Deanna’s. 

My arms still burn where Spencer had held me and although it was through no fault of his, I still shudder at the memory of being so close to him. Still, he hadn’t been repulsed by my scars, in fact, I’m not even sure he’d reacted to them at all. 

A low groan reaches my ears and I’m suddenly on high alert. 

“Please,” I turn my eyes to the heavens above the tree canopy high above me, “let it be a herd, not a huge one, just a dozen or so. It’s not too much to ask is it?”

My prayer is answered when a group of walkers drag their bodies towards me, through the brush. With a genuine laugh I pull my long blades free and kick away the few broken branches littering my path. 

The herd staggers closer and as they reach me the comforting and familiar music begins in the back of my mind. I move like I always have despite my lack of regular practise recently and one by one they fall. I’m out of breath and wheezing slightly as the last one drops but I feel alive. Adrenaline flows through my veins and my nerve endings tingle with energy. I’d needed that burst of movement and chemicals to shake me out of the stupor I’d fallen into. 

Inhaling a deep, cathartic breath, I continue on my journey, only this time I have a spring to my step and a peaceful silence in my head. Passing through the woods I start to take notice of where I am, making mental notes of the terrain. Carefully I map the area in my mind, paying special attention to any trees that would be good for climbing should the need arise.

As I venture further away from Alexandria I’m pulled from my task by voices shouting. The commotion grows louder and more frequent as I move stealthily, shaking my head at the stupidity of some people. Who the hell would be out here making that much noise? Logically it had to be Alexandrian’s, we were too close to the community for it not to be, but surely even they weren’t idiotic enough to do something so dangerous.

Using the sound to guide me I draw closer, picking out two make voices. They’re whistling and shouting although what or who at I have no idea. Keeping low I round a row tress and my jaw drops as I witness Tara struggling with a rotted walker. She pushes it away from her face and tries to grab hold of it. As she finds purchase the thing moves and its skin peels away from its bones. I’ve seen enough. Running towards her I can think of little else than helping. Reaching for my throwing knives I burst into the opening in time to see Glenn put the thing down. It drops, freeing Tara from it’s grasp and for the first time I notice the three other men in the clearing. Noah is behind Glenn, his eyes conveying the sheer disbelief of what he’d witnessed. Opposite Tara, Noah and Glenn two Alexandrian’s are shouting angrily and I recognise the shifty looking one immediately. Nicholas - that’s what Deanna had called him.

He turns to me, gun pointed, scowl set deep. 

“What the hell is going on?” I ask through my laboured pants.

Instead of an answer, Nicholas and his friend sneer at me and start taking the fastenings down from the tree. Not that I care, I’m more interested in making sure Tara hasn’t come to any harm. Dashing over to my friend I quickly scan her for injuries. “Tara? You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She dusts herself down and starts to head back to Alexandria with Noah, Glenn and I hot on her heels.

Keeping my voice low I turn to Glenn, “What the hell happened?” 

His eyes find mine and in them I see his shock. “They’ve been keeping a walker chained up and using it as target practise.” He answers in a hushed tone. “Apparently it killed some of their people to they decided to, I dunno, punish it?”

My face contorts as I try to understand what he’s saying.

“It broke free, so they called out for it.”

“Yeah I heard. Those fucking idiots were lucky, I’d just put down about a dozen or so walkers. If they’d heard them…”

“They’re dangerous. They’ve no idea what they’re doing.” Glenn states. “They’re pissed because we wouldn’t listen when they told us to leave it alone. They wanted to chain it back up.” He shakes his head.

“What?” I’d thought these people were naive and stupid and this only served to confirm my judgement. Anger, undiluted and hot surges through me as I imagine all the possible ways this dumb little jaunt into the woods could have gone wrong for my family. “What the hell?” Turning to walk backwards as we enter Alexandria I glare at Nicholas who has passed the tree line and is close to the gate, all the while my fury growing into an uncontrollable monster that I want to let loose. As he passes through the gate I reach for my throwing knife and curl my hand around the handle.

“You three need new gigs.” The man I don’t know calls out to Glenn, Tara and Noah. “You’re not ready for runs yet.”

“Yeah pretty sure you got that backwards.” Glenn replies, never breaking his stride.

I marvel at how calm and composed he is even though I know he’s fuming.

“Hey, hey!”

I stop walking and grit my teeth as the man jogs past me and grabs Glenn’s shoulder, forcing him to turn around.

“Look, we got a way of doing things around here a—“

“You tied up walkers!” Glenn interjects, his anger finally showing through.

Tara and Noah have also stopped moving and are now opposite me, glaring at the guy yelling at Glenn. Whoever he is, he’s got it coming to him speaking to Glenn like he’s inferior and I’m itching to make a move. I can tell I’m not alone. Noah narrows his eyes and Tara clenches her fists. 

“They killed our friend!” The guy in Glenn’s face shouts.

Again I step back, afraid that I’m not going to be able to keep my cool if this moron carries on. Behind me, I feel Nicholas inch closer, breathing down my neck and I pray that he’ll start something just to give me the excuse I need to act. 

The man badgering Glenn lowers his voice but it’s no less threatening. “I’m not having this conversation, you obey my orders out there!”

“Well then we’re just as screwed as your last run crew.” Glenn retorts.

More people rush over to see what the commotion is about and I spot Daryl prowling dangerously closer.

The idiot causing all the trouble steps up to Glenn and looks down on him. “Say that again.” 

“Back off Aiden,” Tara warns but it’s a breath too late as he pushes Glenn.

“Come on man, just take a step back,” Noah tries but Aiden’s having non of it. 

“Come on tough guy,” he challenges, shoving Glenn once more.

To his credit, Glenn doesn’t react and it strikes me that I could learn a lot from my friend.  
Lowering his voice he looks directly into Aiden’s eyes without flinching. “No one’s impressed man, walk away.”

“Aiden!” Deanna’s voice carries over the tension, “what is going on?”

Without missing a beat Aiden turns to the leader, a smug smile on his face. “This guy’s got a problem with the way we do things… Why’d you let these people in?”

_These people._

“Because,” Glenn answers, “we actually know what we’re doing out there.”

Aiden’s face screws up with hatred and in a blink he turns to swing only Glenn is more practised and faster. He ducks beneath Aiden’s sloppy move before connecting his right fist with Aiden’s nose in a satisfying crunch. I would have cheered if not for the second idiot behind me. As Aiden drops, Nicholas lays his weapon on the ground and it’s obvious he’s going to try and make a move on Glenn. Seeing red, I try to smother my rage. There are too many people here and we have to make this work. Still, I won’t allow this asshole anywhere near Glenn. Twisting around I stick out my arm to try and hold him back but he’s out for blood. He grabs my hips, purposely digging his fingers in painfully and throws me with all his strength, against the metal wall, knocking the air from my lungs.

“That’s enough!” Deanna barks.

Doubled over and gasping for breath I just about make out Daryl diving for Nicholas’ stomach and tackling him to the ground. 

“I said that is enough!” Deanna shouts hoarsely.

Dropping my head, I heave. He’s winded me good and proper and I can’t catch my breath. Tears gather at the corer of my eye and coughing I attempt to summon the strength to stand upright.

 

“Whoah whoah whoah!” Out of nowhere Rick enters into the mix, and I hear Michonne though I can’t make out what she actually says.

Still bent double and unable to stand I raise my head and watch as Rick manages, with effort, to pry Daryl from Nicholas. As soon as he’s freed the Alexandrian rushes to his feet, gulping down air in a way that I’m trying to emulate. Holding his throat, Nicholas alternates between staring fearfully at Daryl and glancing at me, clearly realising his mistake. Daryl, who isn’t about to let this go, paces like a caged tiger but Rick matches his every step, his arm held out in front of him to stop Daryl passing. The tension is thick and everyone in our group knows that Daryl won’t want to take any prisoners. Using the wall to support me, I make my way over to him. As much as I’d love to see Daryl rip Nicholas to shreds, it’s not the best thing for our group and I have to make him see that. I’m just about there when Deanna crosses the crowd and positions herself next to Rick. 

“I want everyone to hear me, okay? Rick and his people are part of this community now. In all ways, as equals… Understood?” She glares at Aiden.

He quirks his brow and smiles sarcastically. “Understood.” 

Deanna continues unperturbed, “All of you, turn in your weapons, then you two,” she points at the two Alexandrian’s who caused this, “come talk to me!”

The crowd disperses and as Nicholas and Aiden walk away, Daryl’s murderous expression changes. His eyes soften and he looks me up and down, checking me over for any lasting damage. Taking a full, deep breath I nod at him, letting him know I’m fine. 

“I told you I had a job for you.” Deanna is smiling at Rick. “I’d like you to be our constable. That’s what you were. Thats’ what you are.” She looks over at Michonne. “And you too.” Turning back to face Rick she stares up at him a moment. “Will you accept.”

Next to me I sense Daryl bristling. I know what it means if they say yes and so does he. We’ll have to bury our dislike of some of their people and take over roles of protectors. 

Rick drops his head and utters a soft, “Okay.” 

“Yeah, I’m in.” Michonne agrees and just like that our fate is sealed. There’ll be no revenge on Nicholas. I’ll be forced to forgive or forget.

Daryl lets out a soft snort and walks over to his crossbow. He’s pissed but he doesn’t stomp away as I expect. He holds out his hand, and looks expectantly at me until I join him. With my back protesting, he slips his arm around my waist and tows me quickly alongside him all the way back to the house, never once stopping or checking behind us.


	46. Chapter 46

Daryl still wont talk to me. It’s been hours since he helped me back to the house after Nicholas winded me and even then he only grunted to check I was all right. I‘m getting the impression that it’s not so much me he’s pissed at, rather the situation and I get it. He wants to make sure we’re all safe and whilst we’re here, surrounded by dozens of others we don’t know, its an impossible task for him. Instead of pushing him on the matter I’ve left him alone. He needs space and time to figure out whatever it is going on in his mind. Still, I can’t stop my gaze wandering out to the front porch to check on him.

My thoughts are momentarily distracted when Rick comes downstairs dressed in his new police uniform, closely followed by Michonne. His eyes sweep the room, coming to a stop once he locates Daryl outside. He sighs, cocking his head in my direction as if to ask what’s going on. I shrug a little and he gives me a small smile, trying in his own way to tell me that he’ll smooth it out, whatever “it” is. 

It’s been an eventful day and combined with the lack of sleep I’m about ready to pass out. The kitchen is mostly empty save for the odd person coming and going and they pay me no mind as I sit cross legged on the counter, watching the water drip from the tap. It still amazes me that they have clean running water here. I could drink what is slowly falling into the sink drop by drop, no filtering, no sickness. Reaching out I allow a droplet to land on my fingertip, following the liquid with my eyes as it slides down my hand. The sound of the front door closing brings me back to my senses.

“Alright, I think we can settle into the houses, no need to hold up in one room anymore.”

Rick’s announcement causes quite the stir and the group hurry to decide who will sleep where. Glenn, Maggie, Abraham, Rosita, Tara, Sasha, Eugene, Gabriel and Noah all volunteer to move next door, quickly gathering their things in a haze of excitement. It doesn’t take them long to disappear into the huge building next to this one.

From my place in the kitchen I watch the others pour into their new home and claim it for themselves. I’m in no hurry to move as I watch them brimming with joy. In fact I doubt I’d have had the energy to walk over there if they'd suggested I move in. I’m so tired that this point I’d be just as happy sleeping in this kitchen, on this counter, as I would anywhere. Besides, it’s a veritable palace compared to some of the places I’d been forced to sleep recently. 

Upstairs I hear Carl exclaim with wonder at his new bedroom and it brings a smile to my face. This, this is why we’re staying. Those kids deserve a house to live in. 

“Rick wanna knows if we’re sharing.”

Whipping my head around I find Daryl at the bottom of the stairs chewing on his thumb nail. I hadn’t even realised he’d come back inside let alone been upstairs. Narrowing my eyes, I peer at him, noting the way my scrutiny is making him uncomfortable.

“Rick wants to know?” Jutting out my chin I challenge him to tell me the truth. I don’t think Rick cares one iota, this is Daryl’s way of asking without putting himself on the line.

“Mmhm.”

“Hmm. What did you say?”

He raises his bulky shoulders in an awkward shrug. “Told him I’d ask ya.”

“Why, don’t you get a say?” It’s a childish retort and he doesn’t take kindly to it.

He glares at me. “Ya wanna share or not, I don’t care either way.”

_I don’t care either way._ So that’s how you want to play it?

“Fine,” I blink and turn away feigning resolute interest in the house across the way, “tell Rick I’m good down here. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“If that’s what ya want.” He huffs and stomps up the stairs.

I hate that he won’t talk to me about what it is that’s eating him up and in other circumstances I’d have followed him and talked it out. Not tonight though, my vision is blurring and my head is swimming. I’m in no shape for a mental shake down with Daryl.

Climbing down from the counter my equilibrium is off kilter and I lurch to the side. Reaching out I steady myself and take a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart. My legs are shaking and, in a replay of what happened yesterday in the tower I’m sweating and dizzy. God, I need to sleep. Carefully I inch forward, fighting against the impending darkness pushing at the outer edges of my sight. If I can just make it to the couch I can sleep the night away and wake refreshed and back at full strength. 

I manage one more step and then it happens again. The warm blanket of oblivion envelopes me and I crumple to the hardwood floor unconscious.

* * *

The sun is gently stirring the world awake when my eyes blink open. It’s still only dawn and although early I feel remarkably well rested. Keeping perfectly still I assess my surroundings until I’m pretty certain I know what happened. I passed out from exhaustion again and I’d be willing to bet my life on it that Daryl had carried me up to a bedroom and taken my place on the couch.

Swinging my legs out of the bed I gingerly sit up. My mouth is dry and my head hurts but other than that I’m okay. Carefully I navigate my way out of the bedroom and head to the bathroom. I need a drink and I don’t want to risk waking Daryl by going to the kitchen. Crossing the hallway a movement from the staircase catches my eye and I instinctively freeze.

“Wha’s wrong? Ya okay?” Daryl whispers, taking the last steps two at a time and rushing to my side. He smells of smoke as he slips his arm around my waist and even though it’s completely unnecessary, bolsters me against his side.

“I’m fine,” I croak quietly, “just need a drink.”

His worried gaze flits nervously up and down my body. He doesn’t believe me.

“Daryl, I’m good.” Pushing gently at his side I remove myself from his grip, trying to prove I can walk unaided. “I’m fine now I’ve slept.”

“Hmm” His arm find my waist again and he all but carries me down the stairs and to the couch.

“Daryl!”

“Sit”

I roll my eyes and lower myself on to the cushions with a laboured sigh. “This is completely unnecessary you know. I’m good.”

He screws up his face and waves his hand from my head to my toes. “Ya fainted. Again.” 

“I was tired, that’s all. No need to get worked up over it.”

He huffs humourlessly and strides away into the kitchen. A second later he’s back and holding out a glass of water. Without giving it a second thought I down the cool liquid, instantly feeling better.

“More?”

Shaking my head I set the empty glass on the floor.

“Ya need to see the doc, ain’t normal all this fainting.”

He’s towering over me trying to use his imposing size to force me into submission and I’d be all kinds of pissed if it wasn’t for the worry written plainly on his face. Standing up I lay my hands on his cheeks and tilt his head down to mine.

“I am all good, Daryl. Please, don’t worry.”

“Pft.” He blows out a puff of air and steps out of my reach. “Then ya got nothin’ to worry about an’ the doc’ll give ya the all clear.”

“I’m not about to waste his time. If I was sick I’d go but I’m not.”

“Ya fainted twice. That shit ain’t normal, Red.”

I’m getting nowhere fast and I don’t relish the thought of yet another argument. Rubbing the back of my neck I flop down onto the comfortable couch and weigh up my options. We could start the day off on yet another argument or I could just go and see Alexandria’s physician. I know there’s nothing wrong with me and a trip to the doctor really would be a waste of time unless… A place like this with a lot of people is going to need a good supply of drugs. If the Alexandrian’s haven’t been out much there’s sure to be some juicy scavenging opportunities. I could see the doctor, get a list of what is needed and head out to see if I could find anything. It would give me something to do and I’d be contributing to the community. The cherry on the cake would be putting Daryl’s mind at ease and removing at least one of his sources of worry. 

Smiling up at him I nod. “Fine, if it’ll shut you up I’ll go see the doctor.”

His shock is palpable. His jaw drops and he freezes in place, staring at me like I’m a mythical creature he can’t quite believe he’s seeing. My smile grows into a soft laugh and I pat the couch next to me, inviting him over.

Slowly and without taking his eyes off me he sits. “Y’mean it? You’ll go?”

I’m done with the arguments. Yesterday I’d been too tired to do anything that might ease his worried mind but after a good night’s rest I’m at full strength and ready to take on the world. Finding his hand, I lace our fingers together. “It’s not worth fighting over. I’m fine but if you need it proving I’ll go see the doctor.”

He grunts, sprawling his legs open wide, shifting weight and leaning against the back of the couch. “’S about time ya started listen’ t’ me, woman.” He can’t keep the smile from his voice as he lets go of my hand and stretches his arm over my shoulders to pull me closer.

Curling my legs under my backside I indulge my need to be close to him and curl into his embrace, resting my head on his chest. 

“So how was the couch last night?” I smirk, amused by his stubbornness.

“Huh?”

Listing my head to one side I’m met with an adorable, confused expression.

“The couch?” I reiterate which only makes him screw his face up further. “Didn't you sleep down here last night?”

The corner of his mouth lifts and his eyebrows raise as understanding dawns on him. “Hell no, perfectly good bed upstairs, why would I sleep on this thing?”

It’s my turn to be confused until I see the wicked gleam in his eye. He chuckles and grasps my chin, holding me steady as his lips meet my forehead.

“Like fuck I was leavin’ ya alone. Stayed up half the night watchin’ ya.”

I move faster than either of us could have anticipated. Swinging my leg over his lap, I straddle him and capture his partially open mouth with mine. 

He’d stayed awake to watch over me, regardless of the fact that he’d been less than happy with me. He’d set that aside his feelings for me and proven yet again what kind of a man he is. Love and gratitude fuel my tender kisses and enjoy the intimacy as he tugs my closer. Pushing the hair from his face I run my hands down his broad shoulders to the tops of his arms. My fingers dance lightly over his biceps and I feel them tense as his hands grip my hips. 

Unfortunately he chooses the exact wrong place to squeeze and with a muffled exclamation of pain I break the kiss and scoot away from his reach. The sting of his touch is lingering and unconsciously I rub at my sides until it fades.

“Eden?”

“It’s not your fault.” I wheeze, straightening up and gently massaging my sore sides. I knew I’d be bruised after Nicholas had intentionally hurt me but I hadn’t realised how badly.

Daryl catches on quickly. “Let me see.” 

“No it—“

“Let me see,” he growls, reaching for my jeans and popping open the button.

Carefully I slide them down a few inches, revealing the beginnings of a pair of matching, gruesome bruises. Twisting I survey the fingerprints reaching around the back of my hips and wince at the already black marks.

“I’ma fuckin’ kill him!” Daryl snarls, his eyes flashing dangerously. He takes a step towards the door and I know he’ll tear through the whole of Alexandria to find Nicholas if he has to, regardless of the hour. He’s seen red and it’s going to take a minor miracle to snap him out if this.

“Daryl!” Keeping my voice low and soft I block his exit. Pushing my body against his I flatten my hands against his chest and roll up onto my toes. “You’re better than this.”

It’s enough to get him to stop and look at me so I hurry to continue before I lose him again. “You took him down. You dealt with him already. There’s no need to jeopardise our place here, not when Judith and Carl have settled in so well. He’s not worth it.” Slowly I see Daryl returning to me. The fury filled glaze in his eyes is lifting and his muscles are starting to relax. “I’m okay, they’re just bruises, I’ll heal. You took him down already. You dealt with him.”

He’s trembling now, the desire for retribution manifesting in physical form. His fists clench and his jaw locks.

“Look at me, Daryl.” I plead.

I see the pulsing anger in his stiff movements as he wrestles with his natural response. Begrudgingly he tears his eyes from the street and looks down at me. His gaze holds the weight of his fight and I know that if I’m not careful he’s going to lose it.

“The outside rules don’t apply here. You have to think of the kids.” I sigh. If I’m being honest with myself nothing would give me greater pleasure than seeing Daryl let loose on Nicholas but that’s not how it works in Alexandria. We have to trust that Deanna will deal with the situation. 

“He ain’t gettin’ away with hurtin’ ya.” It’s a dark promise that sends a cold shiver running down my spine.

“He didn’t. You already dealt with him remember?"

“Nah,” he shakes his head and curls his lip, “he ain’t getting’ away that lightly. I’ma make him suffer then—“

“No!” Changing tactics I shove him hard. “I can look after myself thanks, I don’t need you to protect my honour or whatever the hell this is. What I need is for you to calm the fuck down and let Deanna handle the situation.” 

It’s a risky play, instead of shocking him out of his mood I could be adding fuel to his fire. With my heart in my mouth I wait for his response and when it comes it isn't good. He sweeps me aside and lunges for his crossbow.

“Have it yer way,” he barks, storming out of the house.

What the hell did that mean?

I have nothing on my feet and my jeans are still undone when I run out into the street and follow Daryl. It’s too early to call out to him so I run after him, stumbling on the loose stones and gravel. If he knows I’m here it doesn’t make any difference to him. He makes a bee line for the gate and I breathe a sigh of relief when it opens and he stalks out beyond the walls. Okay so he’s pissed at me again but with any luck that will keep him from going after Nicholas.

Spinning around, I hurry back the way I came before anyone else spots me out here looking like this. The clanking of the gate reassures me that Daryl isn’t going to double back into Alexandria and do anything stupid but just in case I’d better go talk to Rick.


	47. Chapter 47

The sun has been up a few hours and there's been no more sightings of Daryl. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or not. As soon as Rick had made an appearance I’d told him what had happened and in turn he’d assured me he’d speak to Daryl. I’m not sure how he intends to find him but I’d wished him luck as he’d left the safety zone and headed out into the trees.

Once it had been dealt with I’d followed up on my promise to see the doctor. Given our relationships current fragile state I’d figured I’d better carry through with my promise. The infirmary had been quiet when I’d push through the door and to my relief the doctor hadn’t been around. Someone else had though, a woman who’d looked positively terrified of me. I hadn’t stuck around. She’d practically run to the back of the room to hide behind a screen when I’d started heading to the door and I could take a hint. The drugs would have to wait.

Twirling my long blade in my hand I push further into the undergrowth. Having checked the perimeter and the immediate area around the walls I was free to roam and so that’s exactly what I’m doing. Every now and again I stop to climb a tree and assess the area. On my way down I make sure to mark it with a knife before moving on. It was on one of these scouts that I’d seen the small brick building I’m heading towards.

Looking at it I’d guess it was some sort of hunters hut. It’s small, probably no bigger that a few rooms and it’s single story. It can’t be hiding too much that poses a threat. Cautiously I circle around the outside at a distance. It has windows but they’re so grimy I can’t see inside.

Looking up I decide to find myself a suitable perch and wait. I have time and provisions and it keeps me away from Alexandria for a while longer. Hoisting myself up, I again, check the area before settling into the crook of a hefty branch and pulling out a bottle of water.

* *

The light is changing when I descend the tree. The sun has passed overhead and it won’t be long before it starts to sink down to the horizon. No one has been near the area and I’m pretty sure that hut has long since been abandoned. Gripping my blades loosely I stride purposely towards the shack and hit the glass a few times. Dust and dirt shower down as my fist makes contact but that’s the only movement. I move on to the next window, repeating my action and again I’m met with silence. By the time I reach the door I’m sure this place is safe.

The door is stiff and doesn't give easily. Using my shoulder I heave against the peeling wood, cursing softly at the swollen wood refusing to open. Eventually after a whole lot of effort I manage to shift the barrier enough to squeeze through the gap into the musty, dank room. 

It’s dark and it takes my eyes a few minutes to adjust. When they do I spy a large pot suspended over an empty hearth in the fireplace and a large wooden table proudly taking centre stage of the room. It’s basic to say the least. Other than that the place is empty. Wandering out off the second room I take in the grey stone walls and dusty windows and can’t help but think how perfect this would have been a few years ago. A family home. Tiny but safe. 

Shaking the thought from my head I hop up onto the table, crossing my legs and pulling my pack from my back. Inside I’d packed some fruit and I happily devour an apple as I mentally redecorate the simple building. A large bed in the other room covered with blankets, a few chairs around the table and I’d be good to go. 

For a while longer I enjoy the peace whilst a fantasy of Daryl and I living out here, close but not too close to Alexandra, plays in my mind. We could live off the land, maybe even plant a few vegetables by the door, it wouldn’t be grand but I’d bet we could be happy. It’s only as twilight bathes the forest in it’s eerie glow that I concede defeat and leave. All the while happy scenarios float through my mind and I allow myself the freedom to enjoy the tranquility of my day dream.

I take my time heading back, making sure I’ve marked the trees at the right level. I like to keep it high so they’re not easily spotted. Once I’m back in familiar territory I no longer need to carve into the bark so I pick up speed and head for home.

Home. Could I really consider Alexandria home? Thinking this over I weigh up the pros and cons of the community until I reach the very place I’m deliberating. Night has long since fallen by the time I slip in through the gate and the soft glow of artificial light illuminates some of the houses. Out of habit I pull up my hood and use the shadows as cover. 

Back at the houses we’re sharing I’m surprised to find them both empty. Where is everyone? Has something happened? The guy who’d opened the gate for me hadn’t seemed particularly upset or on edge and I’m sure he’d have said if something was up… Wouldn’t he?

Or would he? Something doesn’t feel right. Where are my people? Where’s Daryl? 

Unsheathing my blades I creep out of the house and quietly stalk around the back. Hugging the perimeter fence I make my way around the compound growing more uneasy with each minute. The place is empty. Where the hell did everyone go? 

A loud burst of laughter startles me and I pause mid step to try and figure out where it had come from. It wasn’t close but it had come from inside the walls. A few more paces and I pass Aaron and Eric’s house. I’m about to move on when a light comes on and offers me a glimpse of the inside of their home. For a second I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Comically I rub at my eyes because surely theres something wrong with them, there’s no way Daryl is really inside with a wine glass, of all things, in his hands. 

Only he is, he’s slurping down the drink as Aaron chats to him and what’s more he’s clean and has changed his clothes too. What kind of parallel universe have I stumbled into? 

Another burst of laughter drifts through the air and I dart through the gloom behind a nearby tree. In the distance a shaft of light pours out of the doorway leading to Deanna’s house and once again the sound of people hits me. Is it possible that Deanna’s having a _party_?

With practised stealth I flit across the street and over towards the house in question. Drawing close I can see that there is indeed a party taking place. Well, at least I’ve found my people, I just can’t quite believe that they’re all out socialising. How far they’d come in such short space of time.

Shaking my head I emerge from my hiding place and carefully put my weapons away. As strange as it all is, we aren’t in danger and I have no reason to keep to the shadows anymore so I stroll down the empty street.

“Hey, Red!” From back at Deanna’s Spencer calls out, jogging down the steps and heading towards me. “Why don’t you join us? I know my mom would love to see you there.”

He’s wearing a clean, dark sweater and freshly pressed slacks whereas in contrast I’m covered in mud and the splattered remains of the few walkers I’d put down. He notices my unease and smiles. 

“You look fine as you are but if you want to go home and change you can. We’ve only just gotten started.”

I’m already stepping away as I decline. “Thanks but I’d rather just clean up and get some rest. It’s been an exhausting few days.” Every cell in my body is dying to get away from this man and I’m walking backwards, putting much needed distance between us, before I even realise it.

“Ah, c’mon.” Spencer closes the slight gap I’ve made in two easy strides and catches my hand. Unintentionally I snatch it back and glare up at him.

“Sorry,” he rushes to apologise, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I just… I think it would do you the world of good to come meet everyone. I know I didn’t make the best first impression and you’re still so wary of us but come inside and you’ll soon see we’re just your average regular joe’s trying to get by.”

_Average, regular joe’s_? Could he even hear himself talking? He’s acting like we’ve moved in from a different neighbourhood not survived the end of the world. 

“I can’t—” My mouth snaps shut and I bite back the end of my sentence. He doesn’t need to know that it’s his level of ignorance that is rendering me dumbstruck. 

Spencer rests his hands on his hips and smiles. “Okay but if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” He slowly walks away, twisting around to look at me. “You’ll be missed.”

I pick up my pace, my legs moving faster and faster until I’m jogging. A quick glance over my shoulder reassures me that Spencer has turned around and headed back and as the door to Deanna’s closes I allow myself to slow.

I’m just passing Aaron and Eric’s when the garage door opens. The illumination stretches up and like a deer in the headlights, I freeze. Inside, Daryl is pacing around a partially built bike, his hand gently brushing against the fuel tank as his mouth parts to exhale. And he’s not alone. Aaron is a little way back, watching Daryl with a half smile on his face. Neither of them have noticed me yet.

The sudden slamming of a door catches my attention and without thinking I wheel around to see what’s going on. The curtain at Deana’s twitches, throwing even more light into the street where Sasha is sprinting for the gate. 

“Red?”

Seems I’m not the only one to have been startled by the commotion. Biting my lip I weigh up the merits of staying with Daryl and Aaron against the desire to head off with Sasha.

“What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asks, joining me.

“No idea.”

He shoves his thumb in his mouth. “You enjoy the party?” He mumbles.

His question takes me aback. Again I look down at my dishevelled clothes before blatantly pointing to the mess on my top. “Does it look like I’ve been to a damn party?”

His eyes narrow. “Then where the hell ya been till now?”

“Out.”

“This whole time?”

“I, ah,” Aaron nods to the house as he shuffles away, “I’d better see if Eric needs a hand.”

Ignoring Aaron I roll my eyes at Daryl and walk away. “Yes, all this time.” I grumble.

Footsteps alert me to his rapid approach. “Ya shouldn’t be wanderin’ out there alone without someone knowin’ where y’are. What if somethin’ happened?“ He falls into step beside me.

“Really?” I deadpan, arching my brow. “What about you? Did you tell anyone where you were going today?”

“I wasn’t alone.”

_Well that backfired._ I have no idea what he’s done today or who with, I was merely trying and failing to make a point. 

“Aaron was with me. Went huntin’ found a horse but the walkers got to it.”

Grabbing his arm I force him to stop moving. “You took Aaron hunting?” _And then went to his for dinner? Seriously, what fucking universe have I accidentally fallen into?_

Daryl shrugs, like it’s nothing.

Yanking my hands through my hair I grip the roots and tug. Four days ago we were dying on the road, and today he’s teaching someone to hunt and drinking red wine at a dinner party. How is any of this possible?

No. I don’t know where to begin to understand it. I’d adjusted to the world outside and maybe I’d ben out there too long because I just can’t understand any of this. 

“I’m going to take over watch.” I lie, breaking off from the course we’d been taking and marching towards the gate.

“I’ll come—“

“No!” It comes out a little too forceful to sound casual. “I mean, you sleep, you didn’t get much last night—“

“I’m good.”

“Daryl please, you’re smothering me.” The hurt flashing across his face steals the air from my lungs and I’m hit by just how fucking stupid that was. “No, I didn’t mean it, I, fuck, Daryl…”

He’s backing away with his hands up and a scowl on his face. “Do ya thing, Red. Ya right, I ain’t ya keeper. Got enough of ma own shit to worry ‘bout anyway.”

He stalks away, anger radiating from his hunched shoulders. 

Toxic. That’s what this relationship was. We didn’t mean for it to be dangerous or hurtful and god knows if there were another way I’d gladly take it… But from the start all we’d ever done was fight and make up. Relationships weren’t meant to be this hard or hurt this deep. 

As Daryl heads to the house I make my way to the gate. I need to think, free from distractions, free from oppression and away from Alexandria. Wordlessly I exit the compound and head into the forest, all the while my thoughts are churning. Had Daryl and I ever worked? Sure I fell apart at the idea of not being with him but that didn’t mean it was right for us to be together. We’d hardly had a solid relationship this far, maybe it was time to realise we weren’t meant to be together. 

But this wasn’t exactly a world where things came easy and surely it was worth working at? When things were good they are great it’s just that so many things keep getting in the way. 

_And yet Maggie and Glenn manage._

Drawing out my blade I amble forward. There’s a walker just ahead and it hasn’t noticed me yet. Stabbing through the back of the skull it tips forward and lands face down. Cleaning my blade on its shirt I notice the tree next to me. It’s one of the ones I’d make earlier. 

The hut! Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Without realising, I’d managed to navigate my way back towards the empty building which would be the perfect place to spend the night. A smile pulls my mouth up and a wave of relief washes over me. Only it isn’t relief. Panic sets in a second before my mind shuts down and the lights go out.

 

* *

Covered head to toe in blood and wheezing, I stumble through the uneven terrain trying to find my way back to the giant walls. Wiping at my watering eyes to try and clear them only smears more blood onto my face, blinding me further so I trip and fall. Again. This is pointless. I need to calm the fuck down and take a moment. I’m okay. It’s over.

Rolling onto my back I tighten my grip on my weapons and work to slow my breaths. Closing my eyes I concentrate on the dappling on the back of my eyelids of the sun shining through the trees. It’s over and I’m safe. 

For a moment I’d been plunged back into my darkest nightmare. The rope. The knives. The men. My heart accelerates as I recall the second I had come to and discovered myself tied naked to a tree. _No, don’t think about it, it’s over, you’re safe._

Groping around I try to find something to wipe my face with. My fingers dance across a large leaf, soft and supple before snatching it up in desperation. Seconds later I can finally see again only I’m not sure it’s going to help me. I don’t recognise anything in my immediate vicinity and I don’t relish the thought of climbing any of the trees without some sort of clothing to protect me from scrapes and spikes.

With a laboured sigh I climb to my feet. At least it isn’t a cold day. Tipping my head I search for the sun and using its position I attempt to get home. 

It’s slow work without shoes. I keep tripping or standing on sharp things hidden beneath the undergrowth and I’m sure I’m literally leaving bloody footprints. It’s a good job they aren’t alive to follow me. 

As the day wears on and the sun reaches its peak I finally see a landmark I recognise. A gnarled, twisted tree that wouldn’t look out of place in a Tim Burton movie comes into view, the distorted branches pointing the way to Alexandria. Flopping down next to it I let out a quiet “thank god” but it wasn’t quiet enough.

“Come out!”

Rick’s commanding voice travels easily through the trees and fills me with relief despite it’s harsh tenor. However, my relief soon turns to embarrassment as I realise I have nothing to cover myself with.

“I can’t, I’m naked.” My voice, croaky and hoarse, disguises my identity. “It’s me, it’s Red.” I clarify not wanting to face his gun or knife.

The rustling of heavy footsteps warns me of impending companionship and I cover my modesty as best I can. Curling up tight I wrap my arms around my legs and lean into the rough bark. The thought of Rick seeing me in such a compromising position is mortifying and my face burns crimson, not that it can be seen beneath the dried, caked on blood. Only it isn’t Rick who darts around the tree.

Narrowed blue eyes framed by dark messy hair step into my line of sight and I watch as Daryl’s face contorts from disbelief to panic. 

“It’s not all mine.” I gesture to the mess covering me. “Most of it is someone else’s, don’t worry, I’m okay, I’m fine, I just…” His eyes track down my body and he opens his mouth to speak but someone else interrupts him.

“Daryl?”

_Oh wonderful, Carol is here too._

“Please stay where you are.” I beg.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hold up.” Daryl grunts, shirking out of his vest to give me his jacket. He wraps it around my shoulders, deftly checking me over. Next he unbuttons his shirt and I kneel to fashion it into a makeshift skirt. Again Daryl’s hands ghost over my skin and he crouches down to inspect me closer. 

“I’m fine I promise, it’s not my blood.”

He catches my eye and fixes me with a look. “Whose is it?” 

“I don’t know who they were. They’re dead now.”

“They hurt ya?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Daryl?” Rick’s voice converts his impatience.

“She’s decent.” Daryl calls. He stretches out as if he’s about to help me up but then thinks twice and folds his arms over his chest instead. With a heavy heart I recall the way we’d separated last night and realise that we’re still on uneven footing. Thankfully I don’t have time to brood. As Rick and Carol side step the tree and catch sight of me their mouths drop and eyes widen. 

“It’s fine,” I repeat wondering how many more times I’m going to have to go through this, “I’m okay, it’s mostly not my blood.”

“The hell happened?” Daryl’s voice is as tight. “Where ya been?”

I lick my lips. Bad idea, the copper and metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. “I don’t know. The forest. West somewhere.”

“You gotta give us more than that. What happened?” Rick sighs, gesturing at the state of me.

I know he’s right, I just don’t know how much I should tell them.

“Red?” Carol joins me, staring at me with concern. “Did they…?” Her expression becomes coy and I know what she’s getting at.

Sighing I shake my head. I’m going to have to come clean. I know now I need to see the doctor so there’s really no point hiding anything from them. From Daryl. He’ll find out one way or another and it’s best coming from me.

“I’ve been having a few… I mean… I’ve not…” The words are there, they just won’t come out. Scrunching up my eyes I spit it out. “I keep blacking out.”

Daryl physically jolts, his head snapping up from where he’d been studying the floor. “It happened again?”

Biting my lower lip I wince and nod. “It’s happened every day since we arrived at Alexandria.”

“What?” Carol steps closer as if she’s frightened I’m about to faint again.

“Everyday?” I can’t look at Daryl, not that I have to. His tone is laced with the anguish I’m putting him through.

Thankfully Rick doesn’t want to focus on this part of the story. “What happened out there, Red?” He prompts.

“I found a hut yesterday.” _Am I really going to do this?_ “I… I decided to head back to it last night, I needed to get away.” Pressing my lips into a thin line I glance at Daryl. His face is a mask of anger and pain. “I’d just killed a walker a mile or so out and I blacked out. When I came round I was tied to a tree, naked, and there were two men discussing…” _Make this stop!_ “I’m sure you don’t need me to spell it out. Anyway, the rope wasn’t quite tight enough. I managed to get free. They weren’t expecting it, I was able to get to my blades and, well, it got messy.” 

The strangers eyes had been green and he’d stared at me with his jaw slack as blood ran out of his neck and down my body. He’d thought his strength could overpower me. He’d not once thought of me as a threat. Not even after I’d killed his friend. Probably not even as I was killing him.

Rick bends his knees and attempts to look me in the eye. “Did they hurt you?”

“Were they alone?” Carol asks, stepping in front of Rick.

“I think so, they’d set up a little camp, looked like they had everything they needed. I didn’t see anyone else and they never mentioned anyone.”

“Take her back, I’ll check it out.” Daryl rasps, thrusting me at Carol and striding off before anyone can protest.

“Hold on—“ Carol starts.

“No, let him go. He needs to do this.” Rick holds up his hand and just like that the matter is dropped. “You two head back, I got somethin' I wanna check on.” He tilts his head and appraises me. “You sure you’re all right, Red?”

“I’m fine.” I’m not. I’m being torn in two. Part of me is here and part of me is striding through the trees with Daryl. How much longer can we continue hurting one another? 

“Good. Go get yourself cleaned up. Try an’ stay under the radar, we don’t want the Alexandrian’s panicking.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Carol states firmly. 

He dips his head in affirmation, turns and leaves. 

“Red?” Carol’s tone has changed. “f they did something—“

I meet her eye and stand tall. “They didn’t. Honestly.”

She hums a response and eyes me up and down. She’s trying to break me, see if I’m being truthful. “Alright, well, lets get you back. If we’re lucky we can get you in unseen.”

“And if we’re not?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”


End file.
